The Tale of the Seven
by avrjoe
Summary: The story of the rise of seven unique people who come together to change the supernatural landscape of Los Angles. This is a Vampire the Masquerade bloodlines based World of Darkness story. It is something of a prequel to my Shards of Darkness stories but stands alone.
1. Chapter 1

Psychic Services Incorporated Compound, north of Los Angeles, California

Barry Wilks walked through the halls of Psychic Services Incorporated. A company secretly owned by the Glass Walker tribe of werewolves. The company began in the wake of the landmark discovery of the existence of ghosts and spiritual phenomena. The Glass Walkers hoped to follow their credo to guide humanity into better choices using Psychic Services to encourage positive forms of investigation into psychic phenomena, the sort that would encourage mankind to live in harmony with the spiritual and natural worlds. It was a project in which many Glass Walkers deeply believed.

However, Barry was not looking for a fellow Glass Walker. He was looking for the lone Silver Fang that lived here at the compound. He didn't think Alex would be too difficult to find, especially given his enormous size.

Alex Silbern had joined the Army Rangers when he was eighteen. He spent half of his five years in the army as part of the mission in Afghanistan. It was during this time he underwent his unusually late first change. As a result of his location and late change, Alex was not discovered by members of the Garou Nation but by the Eastern Beast Courts. They, in turn, sent a Stargazer to teach him the basics of what it meant to be a Garou. Even at that early date, Alex did not seem to take too well to his new status.

However, Alex soon found out that he could not remain in the military much longer. Being a werewolf led to too many unexplained incidents; vanishing without a trace during his first change and subsequent initial contact with others of his kind being the most severe of these. However, Alex also had to deal with the fact that injuries that should have scarred the young man healed with no trace. Due to these unusual circumstances, the Army dismissed him early with an RE-4 to prevent his re-enlistment.

Barry first went to the gym. He figured he'd find Alex there. He opened the doors to find he was right. Alex Silbern was there, working on the crunch incline.

"Hey Alex!" He said in a friendly tone. Barry then let out a low whistle. "Looking good! All this time in the gym is paying off! How much are you lifting now?" He asked curiously.

Alex got down off the machine and grabbed a towel. The effect of Alex standing up was somewhat disorienting to those who were unused to him. At seven foot six inches and four hundred and sixty pounds of sculpted muscle, he looked like some ancient warrior god. He possessed bright green eyes, a light skin coloration tanned by the sun, and brownish-blond hair that was now beginning to grow out of the close cropped military style he had worn while in the service. Unlike some incredibly large individuals, he was reasonably handsome. Alex stood on the extreme upper threshold of normal human size without straying into gigantism and deformity. According to him, it was a trait that ran in his family. He had spoken briefly, when he first came to Psychic Services, of a similarly sized cousin that he barely knew who was actually a little bigger.

"Hey Barry. Actually at this level working out is just for the sculpting effect." For emphasis Alex flexed his huge, mountainous bicep. "I'm just going for aesthetics, really, I'm not any stronger than I was." He looked down at Barry and sighed. "I just feel sort of useless around here. I don't fit in well. You're all cerebral types. I'm more of an action guy. So, this is about all I've got to do with my time." Alex confessed.

"Well I'm glad you agree with the Glass Walker philosophy at least. I do have a job for you if you want. We got a message from a hunter who says he wants to work with us. As abnormal as this sounds, we've decided to give him a look. You interested in coming with us incase this is a trap?" Barry asked.

"Hey! That might be something. Even if I'm just along for the ride, it's better doing something rather than hanging around here uselessly. Where we going?" Alex said picking up his things and heading toward the showers.

"Downtown. It's a bookstore with a bar in it. This hunter, Remington Spectre, is the owner. We've got a couple hours. Doesn't seem to be a club sort of place, so wear your normal stuff. Bring a gun, however. Your license did come through didn't it?" Barry inquired.

"Yup. Card carrying P.I. with a gun license, ready to be hired muscle." Alex quipped.

"Well beats carrying unlicensed and getting tossed in jail. I'll meet you at the front in a couple hours. And Alex, don't worry so much. Something will always come up to do. One constant in life someone is always trying something." Barry said cheerfully.

Even though his tone was light, Barry left worried. He'd seen the depression growing. Alex had been attempting fighting it with physical activity, but there was a very morose level buried in him and it worried Barry deeply. Alex needed to get out and get involved in life again. He needed something to replace the structure the military had given him. He hoped something could be found to keep him busy before the depression worsened.

The Garage of a House in Malibu

Keith McDowell got out of the passenger side of the Mazda MPV. He hooked his arm into the back and grasped the duffle bag with his clothing and pulled it out. The car ride over had been fun. He was going to have to be careful not to get mud everywhere. The driver smiled at him.

"Keith, don't worry about the the towel on the seat. Just toss it in the floor. We can get it later." the driver said.

Keith winked at the driver. "Sorry, 'Dessa! You know I can't stand leaving a mess. Old doctor's habits die hard."

Odessa smiled at him. "The dirt won't wander off, love. I can get your things and bring them into the laundry room latter. Infact we can strip most of the mud off in the laundry room where it goes and run to the shower nude." She said with a sly wink.

She began to strip down even as she passed through the door. Keith chased after her. "With encouragement like that how can I resist!?" He asked.

The two kissed and touched, unconcerned about mud smearing while they striped. Giggling, Odessa ran into the bathroom. Her laughter dared Keith to chase her. He did so and caught her just as she made it through the bathroom door. They embraced once more before Keith reached over to turn on the water in the shower so it would warm.

"Get in 'Dessa! We can help each other wash." Keith offered.

Odessa made a show of carefully judging the water's temperature and slowly sliding one leg then the other over the attached tub until she was inside the shower. Her legs were long, befitting her five foot ten inch height. Keith was just taller at six foot one inches. He was pale, both from his distant Scottish ancestry and days spent locked in a lab looking to gain his second degree. Odessa was paler still, her investment management business kept her out of the sun, or so she said, and busy during the days. In fact despite dating for three months, Keith never managed to get out to see her during the day.

She batted her blue eyes and held out her hand toward his left arm. "Come on in. love. The water is fine." She purred.

Keith took her arm with his good hand and followed her in. The other arm had a twisted knot of scars that twisted up the limb. It had almost been taken from him after the injury. The joint hurt at times and the arm was not supposed to hold over five pounds, a rule he had often disregarded while he was with Odessa.

Whether it was indoor rock climbing, indoor maze paintball, or riding ATV's through an illuminated obstacle course, which had been tonight's outing, Odessa preferred her amusements physical with a dash of danger.

"What are you thinking with that serious face, love?" Odessa asked.

"Not much. Just how lucky I am to have such a wonderful woman in my life." Keith admitted.

"You, lucky? I have a handsome doctor who just earned his second degree! A PHD in biochemistry no less! I think I'm the lucky one. I'm living a girl's dream come true." Odessa smiled back taking up the soap.

Keith kissed Odessa. At first it was a tender, gentle embrace but soon they were both overcome by mounting passion. She was so good at that making him feel like he was not just worthy of her but that they were both blessed. Maybe they were, he thought.

The playful shower turned hot even as the water cooled. They were barely dry before they rolled into the bedroom and made love. They were both grateful for what they had found in each other. In the quiet afterwards, Odessa snuggled up to Keith as he stared at the ceiling lost in thought.

"Always thinking. What is going through that head now Dr. McDowell?" Odessa playfully dug.

"Our future sweet, 'Dessa. I have to move out of student housing soon. I need to pick where I'll go. I'll have to get a job and I have job offers offers from all over the country." Keith admitted.

"You're going to leave?" She asked sadly.

"No. I could never leave you. I want to move in. You have this house. If I was living here, I'd have more time to pick out a job. Odessa Beaumont I want to share my life with you. I don't want to go anywhere that you wouldn't go." Keith confessed.

"You want to live with me?!" Odessa said eyes surprised and moved.

"I want to marry you, if you'll have me. I know I love you, but we should try living together just a bit first, I guess. I need to get a few paychecks and pay off a loan I took out for what the G.I. fund didn't pay on my school expenses before I can afford a ring..." Keith was abruptly silenced as Odessa sealed his rambling mouth with a kiss.

The kiss was passionate and desperate, in fact so much so Keith had an edge of worry before it broke.

"Of course I love you, you fool!" Odessa told him.

"I hear a but coming..." Keith began.

"Yes, there is a 'but.' There are a few things I have to tell you first before I can ask you to commit and...it scares me. I love you so much and if I can't make you understand what I'm going to tell you... Keith I don't want to lose you!" Odessa admitted with a level of fearful apprehension Keith had never seen on her face before.

"'Dessa, take it easy. Just take it slow. I love you. Whatever admissions you have to make I'm sure we'll work through them and I'm sure I'll understand." Keith said. In the back of his mind, all sorts of thoughts began to whirl about. Her odd hours of work and lack of worry about money made him wonder if she was a criminal? If so, they'd find a way to get her out of that. Whatever it was their had to be a way

"I'm a vampire. I can't go out during the day. I can never have your children. It's something that can't be changed or cured. If you live with me you'll be entering a whole new world. A strange and very dangerous one." Odessa said, raw emotion tearing apart her pretty face.

Keith stared at her, his mind trying to process what she had said. She wasn't 'goth.' Her words couldn't be cultural hyperbole. She wasn't crazy, yet she obviously believed what she said. His brain worked overtime to figure out what she could mean by this when Odessa interrupted him.

"Let me show you something." Seeing the war on Keith face she leaned in to answer the questions with the only thing a studious doctor would understand; hard proof. She nuzzled against his neck and bit into his vein. His blood gushed into her mouth warm and sweet, sweeter than any she had ever tasted.

As for Keith, pleasure washed over him with the dawning realisation this was something real happening to him. Odessa was somehow able to bite him and feed just like a vampire. His mind stopped struggling as darkness overtook his consciousness.

Spectre Books

Remington Spectre looked around his store with a critical eye. He appeared to be scowling, but that was just his look. Those who knew him well could tell he was actually quite pleased. The store had been coming along nicely.

The building had, at one time, been an old warehouse before it was then converted into a speakeasy during prohibition. It had been gutted by a fire and acquired a reputation for being haunted by malignant spirits, hence why it had been left derelict for so long. This reputation, however, was undeserved as anyone who could see ghosts could tell. The bar's one ghostly resident had long been pacified by negotiation.

Spectre had carefully cleaned the building, leaving the brick looking old and worn. He installed faux gas lights and other antique equipment. It had the look of a old fashioned British pub that expanded to encompass a coffee bar and bookstore.

As a concession to modern laws, the pub area was raised on a wooden platform and had a turnstile at the steps which led up to the bar area. You had to present identification to the host or bartender upon entering. Those who didn't could keep walking and easily enter the coffee bar.

Big Mike sat behind the bar and with him on duty there was little cause for a bouncer. Mike was a bodybuilder and at six foot two kept most everyone in check by his mere presence. He kept his head shaved and his mustache waxed. With his leather apron he definitely looked the part of an antique pub's barkeeper.

A perky goth with her hair in a braided topknot cheerfully dosed the coffee drinkers with caffeine. Her name was Cindy and she often teased Mike about her beverages being just as potent despite their lack of legal regulation.

The Doc was watching the door with more attention than normal. He had received a text indicating that a delegation of werewolves was coming. He wanted to be on his toes. In a lot of was this was coming full circle for him.

When they came they didn't fail to impress. One was tall, at six foot flat, but if he'd been thinner he'd have been gangly. He was wearing a tweed jacket with leather elbow pads and glasses. He looked exactly like a Harvard professor stereotype. The other man, while perhaps more youthful, made Big Mike look downright small. He was in a tee shirt and jeans. The tee featured a logo for an old B movie, _Merlin's Shop of Mystical Wonders _stretched tight across his very broad chest. The Doc suppressed a smile as he walked forward to greet the pair.

"Doc Spectre. I'm the owner here. I have a table reserved for you gentlemen." He announced as he guided them to the back.

"Nice place. Has an old fashioned sort of charm." Barry noted as he took a seat.

"Order what you like. It's not a restaurant, but we do have some snacks." Spectre said as he slid down into his own chair.

Alex glanced through the menu as Barry looked about at the store.

"I have to say, it came as a shock to receive an invitation to come here." Barry admitted.

"Well, in a lot of ways this is full circle for me. The first supernatural I met was a werewolf." Spectre admitted.

"Did you kill him?" Alex asked, not looking up from his menu.

"Yes." Spectre replied simply.

Alex looked up in surprise. Barry went rigid. His eyes darted around the room looking about for signs of a trap. The tension grew thick for a moment.

"Well, he was doing his best to kill me, you see. Years ago I was a research anthropologist. I was investigating one of the oldest known prehistoric sites of human habitation in North America. The goal of my research was to learn something about the early migrants into the central regions of the continent. A friend of mine had followed Native American legend to a site rumored to have been inhabited long before any of the known tribes came to the region." The Doc explained.

"Interesting research." Barry commented politely, trying to lessen the tension

"You sure you're a doctor? You look more like Clint Eastwood. I mean back in his _Fistful of Dollars_ days." Alex commented, as he looked back down at his menu.

"That's why I bought the hat and coat." Spectre said his eye twinkling slightly. He gestured over to the coat rack where a duster jacket and matching hat were hanging.

"Cool, I'll take two of the appetizer samplers and a pint of this _dunkles_ here." Alex stated finishing his perusing of the menu. He seemed less interested Spectre's sense of humor regarding his hat and coat and more concerned about the food on the menu.

Spectre snapped his fingers and Cindy bounced over to the table. Alex looked up to find her perky breasts and ample cleavage hovering next to him. Spectre's quips may not have attracted the massive young man's attention, but Cindy did. Alex flashed her a smile, which she returned and repeated his order to her. She then reached for the menu but Alex shook his head.

"I'm gonna keep it if that's okay, sweetie. It takes a lot to fill us big guys up ya know. I may want something else after." He explained.

Cindy nodded, smiled again, and made her way back to the bar and the kitchen that lay beyond. She walked with slightly more of a sway in her hips as she did so, and Alex watched her go, his eyes intently focused on her backside the entire time.

"Are those vampire fangs on the brim?" Barry inquired, squinting to look at the hat appraisingly as Alex's attention was focused on the barrista.

"Yes." Spectre answered simply. "Back to the story. I rode up to the site. We had heard there was going to be some sort of difficulty a mineral company was interested in the land if we proved it was a site of cultural importance we could have blocked their acquisition of rights to mine the land. When we arrived there already was a team up there they appeared to be placing explosives. They claimed they were to generate shock waves for a resonance imaging scanner. The charges were set neatly in a ring around the area we were there to document. I knew and had used such equipment before. They had about twenty times the explosive force they needed for a even the most powerful of image shockwaves." The Doc continued.

"That's a neat gizmo. It's a scanner that reads the differences in how a shock wave travels through matter so it can outline an area and tell if anything is buried there. It's popular amongst paleontologist to find where to dig." Barry explained.

"Yeah, I know. They used them in _Jurassic Park._ It explained more about them in the novel than the movie. Crichton is pretty good at explaining science for us regular guys." Alex said with a touch of humor. His attention had returned to the conversation now that Cindy had faded from view.

"Well, while we were arguing with them I had the feeling our encounter was going to turn violent. You know, just one of those bad feelings in the pit of your stomach. They had their hand in the cookie jar and weren't acting accommodating, like someone who's been caught and is backing down. Our confrontation didn't get a chance to escalate, We heard a scream. I turned and blood was gushing from one of the mining crew's neck, which was now sans a head." The Doc said, pausing dramatically.

"I think I see where this is going." Alex said dryly.

"Me too." Barry replied with a wince.

"Yep. Werewolf. He started killing everyone. The rational part of my mind warred on the part that said this was an impossibility and I should run. Then the words on the side of a crate seemed to change. It became words I somehow understood. They read '_Rage is not righteous that strikes down the innocent along side the guilty.'_ It was then I felt a clarity wash over me. I knew what I had to do. I moved some of the explosive charges and rewired them while the werewolf continued his assault. Once I was done I got into one of the trucks we'd taken up to the site and I rammed him. I had hoped I was fast enough to hurt him and get the werewolf chasing me and not the people I was with, but it was too late for them. He was finishing them off when I hit him. He came after me. He was so mad it made him stupid. He charged right over the spots I had placed my improvised trap, explosives with random crap to give it fragmentation." The Doc opened his hands wide and mouthed the sound 'boom.'

"I've seen guys torn up like that. It's not pretty." Alex said, a serious, far away look crossing his face.

"So it killed him, I assume." Barry stated.

"Oh not all at once. Took off his legs and mangled him badly but your people heal like something else. Still some of the shrapnel was silver I'm pretty sure those mine surveyors had known what they were dealing with and were armed for it. It wasn't enough to finish him off but he wasn't healing all the damage, blood loss or sepsis would have killed him in time. I made him an offer he was in no position to refuse. I told him I just wanted answers in exchange for mercy. That day I learned about the world of the supernatural. Then I taught an attacker who showed my friends no mercy what it was to be just in the place of vengeful." The Doc finished.

"Good. More of us are like that than like these guys." Alex said jerking a thumb toward Barry. He looked like he was going to say more, but his attention was diverted by the server that had brought up his food and beer. He began to attack the two large platters with a ravenous intensity, washing down large bites of food with long pulls from his beer.

"Despite all of that, you wanted to talk in peace?" Barry marveled.

"Yes. I learned an important lesson that day. When you just fly off the handle killing things as your plan A you taint your good cause into evil. You also get to go home in a body bag. Not how I want to do things. I judge on actions, not on what you are. If you prey on man and make yourself a threat then I put you down. If you help out mankind I do what I can to help you. If you're somewhere in between I keep an eye on you until you become one or the other. Until then you have just as much right to be here as anyone else. That goes for anyone. Even vampires." The Doc revealed.

"Well that sounds dangerous. I don't suppose I can argue against it if you judge everyone by the same standard, however." Barry rationalized.

"Well, I'm glad you give grudging approval of my moral compass. It makes working together far more feasible." The Doc said with a smile.

"You do it with humor but you have an odd way of making the things I say sound..." Barry searched for the right words.

"Dickish?" Alex supplied after swallowing a mouthful of food.

"Ill thought out?" The Doc offered.

"We'll go with ill thought out. I don't intend any offense." Barry replied

"I try to get people in the habit of seeing how their words can sound to people who don't share their biases. We all have our way of looking at things, and from our standpoint what we say sounds perfectly reasonable. When you listen to it from someone else's viewpoint, however, it sounds much worse than how it was intended. Works for mundane as well as supernatural cultures." The Doc explained.

Alex pondered this statement while chewing. He swallowed again and then spoke up. "I've seen that over seas. The army has to keep experts around to help with that sort of thing, and when I had to deal with the eastern Ferra they said a lot of things I had to ignore. They were trying to help me but even their causal speech was filled with some things that were just wrong."

"Well, enough about me, gentlemen, what about yourselves? From what I've heard werewolves don't normally run companies and hand out business cards." The Doc prodded.

"Oh, well, you see, the Glass Spider tribe believes we have to guide man, not lord over him like some strict disciplinarian. With the projector firms kindling an interest in the mystic amongst mankind again we hope to answer that desire to explore spiritual power with paths of positive growth. In turn, that will help guide people away from things like demonology, death cults, and entropically tained practices. So we started Psionic Services Inc. to use what we know to guide people who are interested along a path of spiritual development that is more in harmony with the natural order of the world; nature spirits, not self destructive powers, sacred reverential herb usage over strongly addictive substances. That sort of thing." Barry gushed enthusiastically.

"You know, hippy crap." Alex added as he took a long pull of beer. He had depleted well over half the pint already.

Barry gave him a long suffering stare to which Alex smiled.

"Don't get me wrong, it's well intentioned, and very altruistic hippy crap." Alex added with a laugh.

"Well I've seen the dark side of magic plenty of times. I think guidance is a fine thing, definitely something that needs to be done. The projector firms themselves are in no shape to pick up that slack themselves, either. With Orpheus still being locked up in legal limbo most are treading on thin legal grounds even continuing to operate. I have one of them here in fact, a young lady who is a projector. She's been living in one of the rooms I rent out connected to the bar. Even with the government backed witch hunt for projectors off, she's afraid of the legal repercussions of opening a projecting company herself." The Doc explained.

"Really? I'd love to meet her sometime. Perhaps we can do something to help her." Barry offered.

"I'll pass the offer along and I have your card. She's a bit skittish of the supernatural. She's just learning about what's out there aside from ghosts. I'll tell her I think you're okay, however." The Doc reassured

"Sounds like the boat I'm in. I've been trying to find out more about the supernatural world. The irony being the dicks who were introducing me to the supernatural and what I was in the far East knew more it seems about the non-werewolf supernatural _here_ than the teachers they sent me to. Everyone involved in this crazy shadow world seems so insular. No wonder everyone is fighting each other all the time." Alex lamented.

"Well, if you want to know more about the supernatural world you could tag along with me. I will be introducing myself to people who are involved in it from all sorts of different backgrounds." The Doc offered.

"Really? That sounds like it could be something to do." Alex replied, as he gave a look to Barry. Barry, in return, gave a cautious nod.

"Yeah sure then." Alex agreed. He stretched out his hand to shake, his massive hand almost enveloping the Doc's.

"Good. "Let's meet back here tomorrow about 5 PM. We'll be going later that night to see the "Prince" of Los Angeles, the leader of the local vampires. Things should be okay I have a letter of introduction and some people I know are supposed to have sent word ahead that I'm coming." The Doc explained.

"Huh. That might be interesting. Never met a vampire." Alex said. He drained the last of his beer and stood up. "Now, If you don't mind, I'm going to go see if I can get that chick at the bar's number." With that, he promptly turned spotting Cindy at the coffee bar. He smiled and walked away.

Barry pondered this situation. It looked good. At the very least it was some excitement that would keep Alex occupied. It might also give him a better bead on this Doctor Spectre. His affable nature might be a front. If so, the facade wouldn't stay up all the time and Alex would notice. Plus, he was pretty sure Spectre might be surprised if he planned something devious. Alex might have been relatively new to life as a werewolf, however, his skills as a soldier in his life before had made him a deadly combatant. He would be more than any hunter could match. He was fairly sure.

Otis College of Art and Design

Heather Poe was frantically trying to balance her stack of papers and books. She was trying to open the back door of her Toyota Corolla when the precarious stack all toppled over. With a sigh, she opened the back door and started to pick up the scattered objects.

A dark haired young woman ambled over and stopped a few errant pages from blowing off and handed them too her.

"Oh thank you!" Heather said looking up in surprise.

"No problem! You've got quite a stack there. How'd you end up with so much stuff? Oh, I'm Jennifer by the way." The dark haired beauty offered.

"Oh! I'm Heather, Heather Poe. Well, I'm a late register and I only have three days until classes start, so I was trying to get everything together. I still have to get an apartment or something. I don't have one yet." Heather explained while collecting her fallen stack and putting them away in the back seat.

"You're going to try to find a place to live in L.A. in three days?" Jennifer said in disbelief.

"Oh... yeah I guess that doesn't sound too smart, does it? I'm just kind of rushing to get into school this year. I'm already a year late starting. Last year was just really bad for me." Heather admitted.

"Wow, well maybe you could try networking. I live here and I know some people. Maybe you could get some ideas from my friends. At the least we can guide you away from the bad neighborhoods." Jennifer offered.

"Oh, wow! Thanks! That would be great!" Heather gushed enthusiastically.

Heather left in high spirits. She and Jennifer made plans for her to meet up with Jennifer's friends the next night.

Odessa's House, Malibu

Keith awoke and put his hand to his neck. Feeling smooth skin he began to relax, that is until he realized he felt no pulse under his fingers. He spun, looking about the room. Odessa's bedroom didn't have windows but the illumination in the hall creeped in under the door. That provided him just enough visibility to make out the wall clock; it was just after dusk. As he sat up, the door opened and Odessa entered. She was putting away her cell phone.

"Oh God, Keith! This has gone so wrong. There is a lot I need to tell you but I really don't have the time to explain it all now." Odessa lamented.

"''Dessa what's happened to me?" Keith said fighting off his rising panic.

"I only meant to feed on you a little, to show you in a way you'd understand what I was. I made a mistake. I lost control somehow. I drained too much blood from you. You were about to die. I...I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let you go, so I gave you some of my blood. It brought you back as one of us. As a vampire. We have to leave. Now! I've been making arrangements for us." She took Keith's hand and began to help him up.

"We're running? Why? I don't understand." Keith said confused.

"There are rules, Keith. Laws I wasn't supposed to break that I broke when I made you like me. We have to get out of here before anyone finds out. I have friends. I can fix this but only if we get out of here right- ." Her words were cut off.

The front door to her house exploded. Standing in the shattered frame was the silhouette of a huge figure in a trench coat. He leapt forward and stabbed Odessa just under the ribcage with something and shoved up into the chest cavity.

Keith knew the angle of that stab would send whatever he used into the heart. In a blind panic he threw himself at the hulking, leathery thing before him. The massive figure gave him a backhand that tossed him back into Odessa's living room and onto the glass coffee table, which promptly shattered. Keith tried to pull himself up, but he could barely manage to look up.

Two men with pale skin came around the brutish form that was holding Odessa and began to kick him over and over. They seized him and pinned his arms. The giant figure in the trench coat pulled out another of what he had used to stab Odessa. It seemed to be a stake made from wood. Keith writhed but his strength was no match for the two thugs holding him down. Powerless, he watched as the stake swiftly fell.

Once again Keith's world went black.

Tremere Chantry, downtown Los Angeles

Ezekiel "Zeke" Mason was unusual among vampires. He still slept in a bed and he woke abnormally early. He also showered daily, despite not being alive to produce sweat or body odor. He even still brushed his teeth.

This day he had dressed in an unabashedly preppy way. He looked like he belonged in a Calvin Klein advertisement. It was his favored style, unless he was actually going somewhere he would need to dress formally.

He'd been dead for over seventy years, yet still looked the twenty six years he had been when he was turned. Zeke didn't like talking about his early days, let alone his mortal life. Normally he was far too busy to talk about his own past. What Zeke liked was magic. Thus, the path of his unlife was clear. He had dedicated his existence to his studies. It didn't matter whether it was some new exploration into the history of the occult, the furthering of his own blood magic or some new discovery in the mystic arts, so long as it involved the arcane. Despite his eccentricities, he was a rising star in House Tremere.

The lights flickered. It was an indication to all apprentices that they were to gather in the master's study. Inwardly, Zeke cursed. He hoped it wasn't anything too time consuming. He had work to do! Being a master of the brisk, but casual walk, he walked to the study in no apparent hurry.

The few other apprentices in the small chantry rushed in just before he did. Standing in the center of the room in front of an unlit fireplace, Regent Maximillian Strauss looked over his clan. He was pale even for a vampire a fact made even more obvious by his shaven head. He wore his usual red suit and yellow glasses.

"Close the door Mr. Mason. You will not like this announcement. Word has come all kindred who answer to the Prince of Los Angeles: We are to report to the Nocturne Theater for a gathering and important announcement by Prince LaCroix." Straus announced.

"Damn! The entire night will be wasted." Mason said.

"You know you will have others." Solomon Fitz, a fellow apprentice, said .

"True enough, however, one could learn from Mr. Mason's industrious nature. While we do have ages to study the art, there is no excuse for sloth when it comes to our studies, Mr. Fitz." Straus rebuked.

Solomon looked away, ashamed. He always seemed to be getting unfavorably compared to Zeke. He hated how easily Zeke seemed to impress the Regent while he could not.

"I have arranged transport. It seems, for once, everyone is appropriately dressed. Let us go, then." The Regent clapped his hands. "Everyone to the van." Strauss ordered.

The apprentices complied. Straus noted that none of them, even the normally perceptive Mason, seemed concerned regarding the Prince's announcement. He held his tongue despite mentally noting to speak to Zeke later. Unlike Mr. Fitz, public ridicule did not seem to improve Zeke's performance.

The Nocturne Theatre

The large H2 SUV pulled into a parking spot after what seemed like ages of searching. Dr. Spectre pulled in and cut the ignition.

"You know, it rides alot better then the Humvee." Alex commented.

"Still, I'm not really impressed. I got the H2 thinking it would be tough. It's tough, just not as tough as I wanted. A decommissioned Humvee was too hard to find so I got this instead. Now I've got buyer's remorse. It'll be a while before I can replace it." Spectre commented.

Alex nodded, scooping the last of the can of tuna he was eating into his mouth.

"You're _still _hungry? I thought you ate before I picked you up." Spectre complained as he got out of the SUV.

"It's not a matter of being hungry, but I _am_ still peckish thank you very much." Alex said with a lilt of humor in his voice. "It's a matter of the amount of calories I have to eat in order to stay this big. It actually can be pretty annoying because I also have to burn them with exercise. I've been playing basketball at the park to burn the extra calories since I didn't go back to the P.S.I. compound. It's not as good as the gym but it'll do. I might start playing soccer. I can't think of a more exhausting thing to do. I was watching those little kids, man oh man! There's little ten year olds doing full body flips and shit when they kick the ball. It's crazy. I'll bet it burns more calories than combat." Alex said monologuing while getting out and tossing his can in a near by garbage can.

The pair made their way to the theater door. Spectre tapped at the door while Alex smoothed his clothing

"Think they'll liked my shirt?" he asked indicating his Vintage _Lost Boys_ tee.

Yeah looks great." Spectre said with apparently neither mirth or sarcasm.

The door opened revealing a long bearded vampire in a denim jacket and faded jeans. He looked at the pair questioningly his eyes lingering on Alex's tee.

"I'm here to see the Prince. Is he busy?" Spectre asked.

"See for yourself." The vampire replied as he shrugged and let them in.

In the back of the theater some goonish looking vampires were dragging two limp bodies with stakes in their chests. They were being supervised by a man about the same size as Alex. on his back was an incredibly large silver weapon. To the side a short man impreciably dressed in an expensive looking suit came on stage.

Alex wondered if the large weapon could be a Klave. He had heard tales of the Werewolf artifacts but had never seen one himself. His musing was broken by the short man giving a nod to his minions. They responded by removing the stakes from the two limp forms Alex was surprised to see both begin to become animate blinking and moving their arms a bit both were folding into a kneeling position like supplicants before the short man presumably the Prince,who started to speak.

"My fellow Kindred! My apologies for disrupting any business or interfering with prior engagement you may have had this evening. It is unfortunate that the affair that gathers us together tonight is a troubling one. We are here because the laws that bind our society, the laws that are the fabric of our existence; have been broken." The Prince said in a voice well practiced in addressing a crowd.

The vampires began to whisper amongst themselves. Alex looked over at the Doc who leaned over not taking his eyes off the stage to whisper. "This isn't likely to be good, but keep it together. Normally vampire 'justice' ends with someone dead." Spectre warned.

"As Prince, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindred of this city the privilege of siring. Many of you have come to me seeking permission and I have endorsed some of these requests." The Prince continued, looking at certain members in the crowd as he spoke.

"Population control?" Alex quietly asked Spectre.

"Important in a predatory species with only so much prey." Spectre simply whispered back.

"However, the accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission. Indeed my permission was never sought at all." The Prince paused to let those words sink in.

From the murmur running through the vampires who were suddenly paying much more attention to the proceedings, Alex thought this must be a very bad thing.

"She was caught shortly after the embrace of this childe. It pains me to announce the sentence, as up until tonight I considered the accused a loyal, upstanding member of our organization." The Prince continued.

Alex whispered "Child? He's older than I am."

"It's their term for all created vampires male or female. The creators are referred to as sires." The Doc explained.

On the stage Keith was beginning to regain consciousness. He noticed Odessa looking up into the balcony, pleadingly. In the balcony was a pale white bald man in yellow glasses and a red suit. He seemed to ponder her plea, then gave a reluctant shake of the head.

At that, Odessa turned to Keith. Red tears streamed down her cheeks.

"As some of you may know the penalty for this transgression... is _death._" The Prince declared intensely.

Keith's eyes widened. He made a feeble attempt to get up but was forced by down by the steady arm of a thug.

"Know that I am no more a judicator than I am a servant of the law that governs us all." The Prince claimed eyeing the crowds reaction.

Alex felt a ball of rage welling in the pit of his stomach Spectre gave him a measured look and Alex swallowed.

"This shit just isn't right. Sure we don't know their story, but this isn't a trial. It's not justice." Alex said.

"You're right. We don't know their story, so we don't know if it is justice or not. We'll find out later, but I'm not about to start a fight that will kill everyone here until I'm sure. I've been played for a dope before and found the person I saved as the real villain, Alex." The Doc cautioned.

"Let tonight's proceedings serve as a reminder to our community that we must adhere to the code that binds our society together. Lest we endanger all of our blood." The Prince said then he turned for the first time to look at Odessa.

Keith could see what the crowd could not. He saw the very slight smile on the Prince's face. Odessa's answering look of anger could be seen by all. "Forgive me." The Prince answered in reply to her look.

Despite logic, for just a brief moment, Keith hoped the apology was sincere and that there would be a reprieve. His hopes were shattered seconds later as the Prince turned to the leather clad gorilla of a man on the stage. "Let the penalty commence."

The giant man drew and raised his massive weapon. Keith managed to push away one thug and half rise. He began to shout, but the words died in his throat as the sword fell.

Odessa's final words echoed in his ears. "I love you! I'm sorry!" She pleaded.

Then the head left her body, almost immediately her physical form turned to dust and ash.

Keith was forced to the ground as the two thugs holding Odessa let go and tackled him. The Prince observed the scuffle with a raised eyebrow.

"Which leads to the fate of the ill begotten progeny." The Prince said, turning to face Keith directly.

"Without a sire most childer are doomed to walk the Earth never knowing their place, their responsibility, and most importantly the laws they must obey. Therefore I have decided that..." the Prince said stopping as he was suddenly interrupted.

"This is **bullshit**!" Cried a short haired goateed vampire from among the crowd as he leapt to his feet. Others leapt to stop him from charging further.

The Prince turned, looking surprised. He looked as if he was about to say something. However, many among the crowd began to also rise with glares at the stage.

"Someone's not got as firm a hold on power they think." The Doc commented with interest.

"Was this shit all some power play? Did this fucker just kill someone for politics?" Alex asked.

The Doc shook his head and held up his hand, signalling that now was not the time as he continued his focus on the room. The Prince, judging the mood, seemed to change tactics.

"If Mr. Rodriguez would let me finish, I have decided to let this Kindred live. He shall be instructed in the ways of our kind and be granted the same rights as any other. Let no one say I am unsympathetic to the plights and causes of this community. I thank you all for attending these proceedings, and I hope their significance is not lost. Goodnight." The Prince finished, dismissing the gathering. Alex noticed the vampires with the goateed man who spoke out started walking out as soon as the Prince announced he was not going to kill the other victim on the stage.

"You're going to work with this guy?" Alex asked with concern

"I really don't know. It's not looking good. Let's find out more." The Doc said, doubt creeping into his tone.

"Hey, you guys looking to talk to High and Mighty LaCroix? You need to go that way. It'll lead you around to his car." The bearded vampire told them.

"Thanks, Jack." The Doc said as he started in the direction indicated.

"I don't think we've met?" Jack asked at his back.

"We haven't but I've heard of you." Spectre answered without turning. Alex simply shrugged and followed the Doc.

Back on the stage the thugs had released Keith, yet he still was on his knees. Keith was staring at the ashes of Odessa. His mind had gone from running in frantic circles to a dead stop. His face, still contorted with his scream, had frozen, although no sound emerged. Slowly, it began to melt into a blank mask. His open eyes saw nothing. His ears heard only the roar of silence. His mind was blank, it was blank with the unwillingness to deal with what he'd just seen.

The Prince looked down. "Your sire. This is most tragic, my apologies, but you see there is a code of conduct that all of us must adhere too if we wish to survive."

The sounds penetrated into the dead zone Keith's mind had made. His mind coiled around a single idea. It was a practice honed from long years of experience sorting out the medical puzzles he had sought to solve. He knew in that instant he would kill everyone sharing that stage with him. If he struck now he would be killed. He would wait. He would plan. He would find a way to ensure that Odessa's murderers one and all perished. But, for now, that could only be done if he lived.

"I loved her." He stated simply.

With a gesture from LaCroix, the goons lifted Keith to his feet. LaCroix began walking away. The thugs gave him a push to ensure he followed.

"When someone, anyone, breaks these laws they undermine the well worn fabric of our centuries old society. Understand my predicament. Allowing you to live makes me directly responsible for your subsequent behavior. So what I'm offering is not generosity, but the opportunity to transcend the fate woven by your sire." LaCroix continued not even looking back as he continued down the hall.

At the end of the hall he finally turned to look at Keith. Keith tried to force himself to present a blank face, to detach himself from his rage and analyze as much as he could. It was the same detachment that allowed him to reach into a human body and work upon it as a mechanic did a machine. Hopefully, it would serve him well in this moment. However, he was uncertain he could hide the hate in his eyes. He thought it best to keep them low and servile. This, incidentally, spared him making eye contact with the Prince. A benefit he did not yet realize.

"This is your trial. You will be brought to Santa Monica. There you will meet an agent by the name of Mercurio. He will provide the details of your labor. I've shown you great clemency. Prove it was more than a wasted gesture, fledgeling. Don't come back until you do. Good Evening." LaCroix finished stepping through the door.

The Goons all followed. Keith stared at the door filing away every nuance of the conversation. His mind churned through it for any scrap that might prove useful; every idiosyncrasy, every gesture, anything might be used in eventually bringing down that bastard. He turned heading for the door at the other end of the theater, the one every other of his newfound kind had exited.


	2. Chapter 2

Nocturne Theater Rear Parking Garage, Los Angeles

* * *

><p>Doctor Spectre and Alex stood next to a limo facing the theater door. The door opened and out of it stepped first the goon squad then the large fellow Spectre had told Alex was the Prince's Sheriff. The goons stepped forward eyeing the men warily. The Sheriff stood next to the door looking unimpressed. Finally, Lacroix stepped through the door and looked at them, first with surprise then he regained his composure with look that indicated he'd remembered something.<p>

"Ahh, yes. You must be Dr. Spectre. Remington Spectre if I remember correctly? One of our agents brought me word of you as well as a letter of introduction from Prince Calebros of New York." LaCroix stated.

The Prince closed the gap between himself and the two men to a more conversational distance. Once close, the Sheriff took stock of Alex with a seemingly casual glance. However, afterward he began to stand much straighter in order to emphasize that he was just a touch taller than the large man.

Alex cast his eyes at the Sheriff. He didn't miss the obvious message in the Sheriff's posture change. He decided to send a signal of his own. He inhaled deeply, as if taking in the night air after his stint in the theater. This had the effect of swelling his already enormous chest and pectoral muscles even further. Spectre, for his part, ignored the two behemoth's silent standoff.

"Indeed, I am Doctor Remington Spectre. Am I right in the assumption that you are Prince LaCroix then?" Spectre answered with equal formality.

"I am indeed. Tragic that you come among us at such a bad time. When I told my underlings to have word sent to you to join our next public meeting, I had meant for them to invite you to a salon or other festive occasion. This was a hastily called affair to deal with a matter of justice. I will talk to them about their lack of discretion when following the exact letter of my instructions." LaCroix explained.

"Oh, it's no trouble. After all, aiding in matters of justice are among the services I offer. I helped Prince Calebros deal with a few such cases. The war to retake New York City attracted many mercenary kindred that came for the battle and ended up staying. Some of them proved...ill adapted to settling into the city's kindred society after the war was over." Spectre replied.

"Indeed, I have not heard just how you came to be associated with Prince Calebros and his court. Would you mind enlightening me?" LaCroix inquired.

"Not at all. I came to New York's branch of the National Museum following up on some research. At the time I was collaborating with a young archaeologist named Edward Thompson who, incidentally, happens to be a practitioner of magic. While there I came across a group of vampires that were engaged in the torture and murder of a group of youths that came down from Marshall College to visit the museum. I found out later it was a pack of Sabbat. I began hunting them just before the Camarilla liberation of the city. My hunt was still on going and while seeking out some of these monsters I was put into a position to aid and rescue a group of Camarilla soldiers. What started out as a battlefield truce eventually became a formal partnership. Calebros was as against causing death and mayhem as I am. I was told this was almost a universality among the Princes of the Camarilla. Furthermore I am not opposed to the relatively harmless feeding upon the unwitting. His desire for order and inconspicuous behavior meshed with my desire to protect the populace. However, with Calebros stepping down as Prince and my own business in New York long concluded, I came here to Los Angeles to start a business. I do hope to kindle a new and mutually beneficial relationship with the local Camarilla. I hear this is the current front of the war on the Sabbat." Spectre finished.

"You will find order is something we have in short supply these nights. With such glowing recommendations, I will indeed endeavor to make use of your services, Doctor. We do indeed have an overabundance of Sabbat." LaCroix admitted.

A group of vampires, who had the look of more well heeled goons, came running up the one in the lead shouted to LaCroix. "The Sabbat!"

"Yes, we were just discussing them. They have managed to make themselves quite a nuisance in the past" LaCroix said.

"I...the past? Prince LaCroix, I mean the Sabbat are here!" The goon stated.

"Damn it!" LaCroix looked at his Sheriff who nodded back.

"Gentlemen, I regret this meeting will have to be adjourned, but as you wished to see the local Sabbat in action this works well for you. My Sheriff will be heading to take care of this matter, if you wish to join him. I must retreat. It would not do to let them decapitate our power structure in the city. Good Evening." LaCroix said as he maneuvered past Alex and the Doc into his limo, which promptly drove away.

"He ran off?" Alex asked with disbelief.

The Doc shrugged and started following the Sheriff. "Let's follow the big guy. The Sabbat are animals, they kill and torture for fun. If they're here I want to end them."

Alex followed with a sigh. At least he was going to burn some calories.

* * *

><p>The Front of the Nocturne Theater<p>

* * *

><p>Keith exited the theater unsure of where to go. The Prince had mentioned he would be taken to Santa Monica. When and by whom? Was this a trick? Perhaps they expected him to miss his ride and give them an excuse to kill him? He stepped out carefully still in thought. His reverie was interrupted by a raucous voice calling out to him.<p>

"What a scene, man! Hoo-Wee! Then they just plop ya out here like a naked baby in the woods. How 'bout that?" A long bearded vampire in denim called out.

"A scene. The woman I love gets publicly executed and it's a scene? What sort of nightmare have I been tossed into?" Keith asked glowering.

"Ah.. look, kiddo, this is probably a lot for you to take in, so uh, why don't you let me show you the ropes. Whaddya say?" Jack offered a look of slight embarrassment coming over his face.

"Who are you why would you help me?" Keith asked suspiciously.

"I'm Jack. What's important is, I'm offering to help. You make it back from Santa Monica with your hide and we'll trade life stories, m'kay? 'Til then, I got about...this much time." Jack said holding his finger and thumb about an inch apart.

"I don't know. You, all of you just sat there while Odessa was killed. How do I know you aren't one of his toadies?" Keith said gesturing back in the general direction LaCroix had gone.

Jack pondered this. "She had friends, kid. She called around just when the night fell. She was trying to get herself and you out of here. I was one of the ones who was going to help. I was going to bring some boxes and crates that we could pack you both in and ship you out like cargo so you won't get fried by the sun. Anyhow, you'll have to trust your gut. Are you in or out? I can give you a quick run down that might keep you alive. With no one to show you the ropes properly it's the best you're likely to get."

Keith thought hard about the offer and could see no downside to listening "Alright, fire away Jack. I'm in."

"Alright, I don't have much time but I figure someone should at least fill you in on the bare bones stuff. You look wobbly; you even had a drink yet?" Jack asked appraising Keith's condition.

"Of blood, I'll assume? No, I haven't. I woke up like this and was promptly staked. You saw when I woke up." Keith replied.

"Oh man, we're poppin' a cherry here! Ha ha ha! Ah, you're gonna love this! Alright check it out. Blood: it's your new rack o' lamb, your new champagne - blood's your new fuckin' heroin, kid. Ha ha! Get ready though, cuz, hey, it's never as sweet as the first time." Jack said gleefully.

Keith looked at Jack with an uncertain gaze and wondered what he'd gotten himself into but followed Jack as he lead him away.

"Come on, down around the corner here, I saw this human Poor S.O.B. Can't find his car... hehehehe." Jack beckoned. Keith followed Jack's lead away into the night to continue trying to learn what he could about being a vampire.

* * *

><p>A Short Distance Away<p>

* * *

><p>Alex followed the Doc who in turn was following the Sheriff and the Prince's goons. They found a old panel van that was crashed into a dumpster. Its doors were all opened. From the look of the vehicle, there were indications it had been hastily abandoned.<p>

"The Sabbat drove in firing at us. We hit the tire and it crashed, but they boiled out after us. We ran. They didn't follow. I think they spread out all willy-nilly." One of the goons reported.

The Sheriff examined the potential paths of the Sabbat vampires. He then used hand gestures to indicate the goons should break up into two groups of four and branch out while he took the third path. He trudged off, ignoring the Doc and Alex. Despite this, the Doc continued after the Sheriff and Alex followed the Doc's lead.

The Sheriff paused seeing foes ahead. The Sabbat, hearing his approach, turned and began firing at him. The Sheriff held out a hand and called forth biting insects to attack his foes. The Doc pulled his pistol and aiming down the barrel took a carefully timed shot striking one in the head. Alex, meanwhile, had no need for such finesse. He unleashed his inner beast and transformed.

The Sheriff looked back while unsheathing his massive sword. He then stopped and looked back again in a double take.

Alex had assumed the dreaded Crinos shape; the battle form of the werewolf. Rather than a seven and a half foot tall human, the Sheriff, who had not known Alex's true nature, was confronted by eleven and a quarter foot tall death beast looking down at him. His already massive body bulged with an increased musculature. As a result, the tatters of his shirt littered the ground. The rest of his clothes had disappeared, replaced by a shining, silver-white fur. His hands and feet were now tipped with long, deadly claws and his now lupine head was filled with razor sharp teeth.

With a mirthless smile that was more of a leer, Alex leapt forward with a speed that nothing his size should have been able to achieve in such a short distance. He landed with a tremendous thud, completely crushing his victim, his enormous weight shaking the ground and leaving great spiderweb like cracks in the asphalt of the alley. He made sure the completely shocked Sabbat goon was truly dead by ripping his head off and smashing it into the ground, creating a smaller, companion cracks in the asphalt to those left by his colossal clawed feet.

The Sheriff looked at the Doc with an impenetrable stare.

"What? So he's a werewolf. He's killing your foes." The Doc said in a neutral tone.

The Sheriff stalked forward toward the battle his every motion signaling he was not thrilled with Spectre's little revelation.

The other Sabbat goon lifted his gun and fired a burst into Alex's mid section. The wounds, however, began to close before his very eyes. He had little time to panic before the Sheriff's blade sliced him in half.

Hearing more foes beyond, the Sheriff continued without stopping. Another group of Sabbat were in the next alley. He rushed them before they had time to fire. He hacked one down and with a back stroke of his blade broke another ones cheap sub machine gun.

With a roar, Alex charged. His mountainous warform still caused the ground to shake with every footstep as he approached with deadly speed. He slit one of the Sabbat from pelvis to throat with a single upward swipe of his claws. The last attempted to run only to have half his face blown off by a well placed shot from the Doc. Alex felt like he was being watched and looked up. From an upper window he could see the Vampire who had nearly be killed on stage and the one Spectre had called Jack. Both figures darted out of view as he looked at them.

Jack pulled Keith away from the window. "Jesus H. Christ! That big son of a bitch was a werewolf!"

"Werewolves are real too then?" Keith muttered.

"Just as real as the Sabbat I was telling you about. A werewolf though, whoo! They're nothing you want to tangle with. Don't get mixed up with that guy. Alright. We gotta vamoose out the back, quick. I'll stay and keep a watch out; you get into that office over there," Jack instructed.

Keith nodded and took off down the hall. Jack turned back and peeped out the window. He saw the very odd warband continuing on in pursuit of more Sabbat attackers. He pondered how a pet hunter and perhaps tame werewolf in the Prince's pocket would radically shift the Camarilla-Anarch power balance. Remembering the uncertainty of working with Lacroix in the voice of the hunter, he hoped he could be convinced not to back LaCroix.

Alex and the Doc continued following the trail of Sabbat activity slaying more of the wild vampires. It seemed the Sabbat aggressors were running when another gun blast caught Alex. He turned and sliced into his attacker only to note the difference this one was human. A quick swing from the Sheriff's blade cut down the other human attacker. Alex dropped from Crinos form in shock; his pants and shoes reappearing, his shirt, however, did not.

"Shit! He wasn't Sabbat he was a human!" Alex said in shock, breathing heavily as his torso fell up and down rapidly. His heart was surging in his chest, partly from the rush of battle and Crinos form, and partly from the torrent of guilt that now surged through him.

"Calm down. Alex." The Doc said, noting the look on the young man's face. "It looks like gang bangers, they were most likely in cahoots with the Sabbat, given the fact that they were here, well armed, and firing first." Spectre replied.

"Yeah, but he's not a monster, Doc, he's just a human." Alex lamented.

"Oh? Would he kill an innocent any less quickly? How many children die to gang violence compared to vampire attacks, Alex? Any species or being, supernatural or not, can be monsters and humans make some of the worst. At least some of the others have an excuse for starting down their path." The Doc said.

Alex looked at the man he'd killed unsteadily. He had killed before for his country or more for self defense of himself and his friends in his unit. He understood mentally what he had done while in the military had been his job. He was acting then on the authority of a government. He supposed the Doc viewed this the same way. This was his job. He was acting under the authority of whatever power had granted him his hunter abilities. Alex couldn't completely bury his conflicted feelings on the matter. They would take time to sort though.

"It looks like the Sabbat have been routed. They've high tailed it back out of the area leaving us the battlefield. I take it this happens a lot?" Spectre asked the Sheriff.

The giant vampire noded while putting away his sword.

"Unfortunate. Well tell your Prince that I will always help in ending Sabbat infestations. It's high on my list of priorities. Should he need help with their ilk again he need only call the number he has for my bar. Everyone there who answers the phone is knowledgeable about my activities and can be trusted to get me a message." Spectre offered.

The Sheriff noded and turned walking away.

"My head tells me you're right, Doc, but years of being raised on being a law abiding citizen scream at me this guy should have gone to jail. Something I'll have to work out, I guess. Have you, uh, you ever killed anyone you found out was innocent?" Alex asked hesitantly.

"Yes. It's not an incident I care to repeat, but the same thing happens to the police or soldiers like you were. You can only keep going with a guilty conscience and do everything you can to minimize the loss. The world is not a pretty or clean cut place, Alex, but I'd rather live with a few nightmares of my own than have to live with the nightmare of others losing people they care about to the monsters I didn't stop." The Doc said giving Alex a comforting slap on his enormous bare shoulder.

Two of the Prince's goons drove up in a car. They drove toward the theater front doors and honked the horn.

"What is that all about?" Alex wondered.

"Yeah, lets go check it out." The Doc said starting that way.

Before they could get far, a nearby garage door opened. The vampire named Jack and the new vampire they had seen during the trial on the stage were in the now open doorway They both looked like they had seen some action against the Sabbat.

"Keep your pants on! He's over here!" Jack yelled.

"Hey, hold up, kid. Name's Spectre. Not sure what your story is, but it looks like you've had a bad shake tonight. I want to find out your story and I don't trust anyone but you to tell it." He said gravely while handing Keith a business card.

"I'm Keith. Thanks. I can't stay to chat. Apparently I'm banished to Santa Monica for a while. So I can't miss this ride." Keith took the card with his scared right hand and put it in his pocket, not letting go of the baseball bat he had in his left.

"I'm Alex. Sounds like a bum deal if you ask me. Good luck, guy." Alex informed him with sympathy.

"Thanks, you too." Keith replied, breaking into a trot to get into the backseat of the goon squad's car.

As Keith got in, he heard the Doc ask Alex. "What do you think?"

Alex pondered. He put his hand on his cobblestone like abdominals. His stomach growled audibly. "I'm thinking pancakes. You want pancakes?"

"You're hungry again?" The Doc marveled.

"Oh, like you aren't! Combat is the most calorie burning thing you can do. Well maybe excluding soccer." Alex shot back.

Keith's car sped away, leaving him with that unusual snippet of conversation. The Doc and Alex watched him as the goons rushed him away. Spectre turned to Jack.

"You think he'll be back or are they going to shoot him and dump him in a ditch?" The Doc asked.

"They likely plan to send him on some suicide mission. But he'll be okay for a day or two at least. He might even make it back. LaCroix has to make it look like he gave him a fair shot." Jack admitted.

The Doc lit a cigarette and offered Jack one, who, with a shrug, accepted. The Doc took a few puffs, lost in thought, as Alex wrinkled his nose and backed away, not caring for the smell of the smoke.

"Guess the smoke hits the sensitive nose, eh? Never talked to a werewolf. Wasn't sure you talked other than snarling or incoherent cursing. Of course, I never bothered to really ask, most of the time I was too busy running whenever I saw one. Where did your clothes go when you changed? Do you always lose your shirt or you just like looking like a romance novel cover?" Jack quipped.

"The pants and shoes are enchanted. It's hard to do. Don't get any ideas, I have no idea how it was done. I had to get someone to do it for me. I chose the shoes and shirt to keep myself from getting arrested for public nudity after a transformation. I wish it hadn't been such a pain to get done. I'd have gotten my shirt done too. I liked that shirt." Alex replied.

"I've heard of you, Jack. You've got a reputation for being a dangerous lunatic. Despite that, I know I'm not getting the full story. So, where do I go to hear the other side?" Spectre asked.

"Tell you what, man, give me one of those cards. I can't exactly go telling a hunter and werewolf where my sort of people hang their hats. Neither of your sorts are known for playing nice with our kind. I'll talk to some folk, try to get them to talk to you. Better you know the full story than end up on the Prince's side because you didn't hear the other side." Jack admitted.

Spectre nodded and handed over his card.

"Alright! Well, one last thing before you go. Get out a pen. This is how to get to what I hear is a good pancake place." Jack said with a manic smile.

* * *

><p>Spectre Books<p>

* * *

><p>Maria Grove was not a pretty woman. Her pale skin, limp brown hair and rather watery eyes gave her the look of someone recovering from a major illness. She had, in fact, spent much of her life in just such a state.<p>

That morning she had risen early. She had an appointment to meet with a scientist to help her troubleshoot a problem. She hoped this professor was welcoming her with a genuine desire to help. Far too often Maria had found she was welcomed only as a curiosity. The rarity of talking to a projector had often proved too tempting and overwhelmed professionalism in other experts. With the sensationalism and media drama surrounding projectors, even supposedly professional people were not immune to curiosity.

For this reason, among many others, Maria was thankful to Doctor Spectre for being so courteous. He was, while mildly curious about her powers, not obtrusive of her privacy or simply a gawker. Why would he be? It seemed he had remarkable powers of his own. He interacted with a world she had only barely begun to explore. It was a world that both intrigued and frightened her.

She exited her room and took the stairs up from the sub-basement to the store room of Spectre's shop. She could hear the crew talking upstairs as well as the sounds of someone poking about the supply closets. Ignoring who ever was in the supply room, she made her way upstairs. Reaching the top she saw who had been talking; Mike Callahan, the bartender, noded at her and the barista, Cindy, gave her a cheery smile.

"Hey, Maria! We're just finishing up here, you know, closing everything down so the store can go to day shift mode. Amy is in the back getting fresh coffee. You want a bagel or anything? We don't have any egg sandwiches made yet." Cindy offered with her usual cheer

"Oh, no, don't trouble yourselves on my account! I don't want to impose." Maria said nervously.

"It's no trouble! Heck, I'll have to toss them if someone doesn't eat them. Here! You like extra cream, light sugar and a shot of vanilla, right?" Cindy asked, despite already mixing the drink and tossing a bagel on a serving plate. Cindy worried about Maria. She never looked like she'd eaten enough.

Maria noded. She now felt compelled to sit and eat. "I umm... will be taking a shift here at the store tomorrow. I just have an appointment with a Professor Sparks today. I am hoping the professor might help me with some...umm...technical problems." Maria hesitantly explained.

"Professor Sparks? That's the one the Boss said might be a Magus, isn't it? One of the Sons of Ether?" Mike stated in his deep, sonorous voice.

"Yes I guess so. Umm, has anyone heard from Doctor Spectre?" Maria inquired.

"Yes, he was out all night tending to issues with the local vampires. He will return in a few hours. He and the large fellow named Alex went for pancakes. We are to prepare a room for Alex. He will be staying a day or two. It seems the P.S.I. compound is a bit far for him to return to on short notice." Mike revealed.

"Oh." Maria said. She began chewing on her bagel, lost in thought. This was slightly worrisome to her. Maria liked her privacy. She wasn't sure she'd care for having such a large man sharing the sub basement with her. There were four apartments down there. She knew there was the chance Doctor Spectre would rent the others when she moved in, although she hadn't really thought about what sort of person he would rent too.

"Are you nervous about going to see this Professor, Maria? Mike or I can go with you! It'll be fun! Right Mike?!" Cindy suggested excitedly.

Mike nodded solemnly "My simple craft is no match for a true Magus, but I would be willing to accompany you to watch for dangers and tell you of any pitfalls in which you might be ensnared." He said gravely.

"Oh, don't be such a negative nelly, Mike! I'm sure it will be fine! We'd be going as moral support!" Cindy exclaimed.

Maria blinked at Mike's deadpan statement, then smirked a bit at Cindy's rebuttal. "No, that's fine. Thank you. I just think I'll leave a note. I just sort of wanted someone to know where I was and what time I left. I'll be fine, really." Maria said with false sincerity.

"Well, if you're sure..." Cindy said reluctantly.

"If you need aid you have our numbers as well as Amy, Chris, and Jacob. Although they are but apprentices in the craft." Mike stated.

"Thank you, again. I'll be fine, really. I better go." Maria said as she finished her bagel and headed out, coffee in hand.

Cindy looked over at Mike. "I worry about her." She admitted.

"There is something about her that draws pity, but have no doubt her soul is strong. Were it not, it never could survive away from the body as it does when she projects. Thusly there is a core of strength to her hidden deep within." Mike stated.

Cindy quirked an eyebrow "The way you talk, I think you read too much." She said as she cleared away the last of the overnight tasks.

* * *

><p>The Asylum Bar, Santa Monica<p>

* * *

><p>Heather was not having a good time. She had spent all day hunting for an apartment. Her search had proven completely fruitless. She met up with Jennifer's friends who made the unhelpful suggestions of checking the local papers, which she already had done, and hiring someone to help, which she was not sure she could afford. They then had driven here to this bar and begun to party.<p>

Already being tired, Heather had no desire to drink or dance. Had she not been in the middle of the serious task of finding a place to stay, she might have appreciated Jennifer encouraging her to talk to her friend Greg, who was unattached. However, she felt let down that no one really seemed to have any interest in helping her. Right now, she just wanted to go back to her hotel to rest and start her housing search again tomorrow.

She looked around the bar from the small table on the second floor where she was sitting trying to find everyone. They had scattered through the chaotic club. Jennifer and her boyfriend, Randy, were still on the dance floor. Nancy and her date, Tod, were necking at the bar. She finally spotted Greg who was talking to a very tan young woman with short blondish hair who was leaning on the rail overlooking the dance floor.

Deciding to bite the bullet and risk alienating these new "friends," Heather headed over to Greg. When she came closer she saw a line of empty shot glasses on the rail he was leaning against.

"So, what else were you hoping to find in California?" Greg asked the woman.

"Um, Greg? Not to be a wet blanket but, aren't you the designated driver?" Heather asked.

"Huh? Oh, I was but since you're not drinking anyhow I figured you could do it. Now, if ya don't mind, I'm kinda busy here." Greg said in an aggravated tone as he turned back to the woman he was chatting up.

"Well, I mean we have bars like this and shit back home in Arizona. I was hoping for something wilder and more exciting; West coast, you know, party town. Seems like I was wrong." The young woman said.

"Greg! I can't be your designated driver. I'm half asleep and I met you guys at Randy's apartment. I still have to drive back to my hotel when this is all over. In fact, I sort of want to go now." Heather admitted.

Greg turned around again, annoyed at the interruption. "Look, we'll talk about this later, okay?"

"Wow, I don't know what's going on, but it sounds like you've got other business. I'm gonna go." The blonde said.

"Hey, no wait!" Greg called after her as she slipped away into the crowd.

He turned and gave Heather a withering stare. "Yeah I guess this bar was becoming a dead end. We need to find another one, anyhow."

"Thank you. I can drive you guys back to Randy's, pick up my car, then you can get a cab or something since you've all be drinking." Heather offered.

"Oh, yeah, we can get a cab. Yeah, that sounds good, doesn't it? Hey, why don't you. Wait at the table. I'll get the others." Greg told her as he took off.

Heather sat back at the table and waited for the others. After a few minutes she began to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. She looked out across the dance floor and didn't see anyone she knew. She glanced at the bar and found no one either. She rushed down to the ground floor as quickly as she could. The crowd did not make it easy.

"Hey! I had some friends here at the bar. Did they just leave?" She asked the heavy set overly tattooed barkeeper.

"Do I look like I keep track of everyone? What am I? Your mother?" The barkeeper replied gruffly.

"You have to remember them! They were practically having sex on your bar! I have to find them!" She exclaimed.

"Oh, those two. Yeah, they left just a second ago. They said something about going to another bar." The bartender said with scorn.

Heather whirled around and raced out of the bar. The group had parked in a parking deck a couple blocks away. They would have to pass back by here to leave. She looked out into the street, hoping to catch them. With her financial straights already dire, she really didn't need the cab bill from Santa Monica all the way back to her hotel.

Heather looked about and saw Greg's SUV. Waving her arms frantically she rushed over towards it. Greg rolled to a stop and Heather raced across the street. Just as she was getting close, Greg leaned out of the window and yelled.

"Hey! Don't worry! YOU can just get a cab since you want to bail!" He then stomped on the accelerator and sped off, leaving Heather in the middle of the road.

An old man had started across the street from a nearby diner after he saw Greg stop. He looked in panic at the on coming car. Greg swerved hard to the left to avoid the man. This put him directly into the path of an oncoming truck. The truck had no time to brake. Greg's SUV rolled onto its side as the truck slammed into it. The SUV began to slide back in the direction it come from, pushed by the momentum of the truck. Caught in panic and disbelief, it was the last thing Heather saw before darkness and pain overcame her. She didn't even remember the impact.

* * *

><p>Santa Monica Safe House<p>

* * *

><p>Keith awoke in the shower. He looked at his surroundings in disgust. Not only was this 'safehouse' the worst kind of dive imaginable, he didn't even see how it was good for vampires. There were only two rooms and the main room was a corner apartment. Both of the outer walls sported large, unshuttered windows. That left only the bathroom to stay in safety during the day.<p>

Upon exiting the bathroom, he looked at his surroundings again. There had been one change. There was now was a laptop, notepad and card like piece of folded paper on the old beaten up metal desk in the corner. Curious, Keith walked over to examine them. The note was from this Mercurio he was supposed to meet. It gave the password to the computer and the location of some hidden cash. Keith took the cash out and put it in his wallet. He then examined the card. It was an invitation from someone named M. Strauss to visit him in the downtown area. As it was outside the confines of his banishment, Keith put it out of mind and set to examining the laptop.

He saw he had a reminder from the Prince or, more likely, one of his flunkies to meet Mercurio. An email from someone named Ezekiel. Apparently he was the one that dropped off the card on his desk and would be at the Santa Monica pier with some friends if he felt like talking. There was some junk mail and an odd email that seemed to be about chess and, finally, directions to Mercurio's apartment.

Keith noted the direction and headed out. Mercurio's was far away. As he walked, Keith thought about the events of the last night. He had managed to feed upon the human gangbangers he had been forced to fight, so his hunger was a distant thing, at least for the time being. However, it seemed rising every night ate into the stores of blood his body held. He also knew from experience healing consumed his stores as well. Jack said avoiding hunger was the key to keeping the dark urges he called 'the beast' in check. He debated finding a source of food, perhaps another one of the homeless? He could compensate them for the involuntary contribution with some of his cash. He decided to wait. Best learn about the area and if there were any local rules he didn't know.

Once he reached Mercurio's apartment, he noted a worrying sign; there was a blood trail going from the main door to the apartment labeled on his directions. With mild trepidation, Keith followed the trail and opened Mercurio's door. Inside a man was laying on the couch moaning in pain. Keith raced up, his doctor's instincts taking over.

"Hold still. Can you tell me what happened?" Keith asked.

"Those mothers...ripped me off! I'm dyin' here!" The man whom Keith assumed to be Mercurio exclaimed.

Keith looked over his injuries "These are pretty bad. I'm going to call an ambulance."

"What? No! I go a record back East. I'm heat bait. Don't touch that phone! No goddamn cops!" Mercurio exclaimed.

"Are you sure? I'm a doctor, but I don't have any equipment or medicine to treat these kinds of injuries. You look like you were beaten by a whole group. You're Mercurio aren't you?" Keith asked as he pulled back from the phone.

"No Cops!" Mercurio repeated. "Uhh, yeah. Mercurio. That's me. Oh...I can feel a draft on my fucking insides! They shanked me - the bastards! The blood ain't workin' no more - my head, it feels cracked. Ugh...I think my eye's popped." He lamented.

"That eye's swollen shut, but there's no hemorrhage. That's good, at least. You do have a deep knife wound here. It'll need stitches. Get the clothes off so I can see more carefully. Don't jar anything open. That knife wound is nasty. I don't see how you're still alive to be perfectly honest." Keith said as he started pulling Mercurio's coat off.

"I got... I went...fuck...what is this lump? Is this my rib? Oh, holy shit, my rib's pokin' through my side?! Oh. I'm all numb... you gotta look and tell me doc!" Mercurio exclaimed disoriented.

"No, that's the end of a broken bottle. If I pull it out it's going to bleed and as much blood as you've lost you can't afford to lose much more until I get some stitches in you. Do you have a first aid kit?" Keith asked.

"Yeah, basic shit, in the bathroom! Goddamn chemist! Can't trust any operators in L.A. I verified him, organization seemed reliable. Guy mixes up speed, his crew sells it. Occasionally he does explosives. We needed some for the job they want you to do so I set up a drop. I show up at the beach with the money, right? Four of his guys, they come out of nowhere. Junkie pricks - hit me with a bat! Head feels like a friggin' horse kickin' it."

"You went alone to buy explosive from a drug dealer in his own turf? I'm sorry but that doesn't sound like the brightest move. These are pretty sorry supplies, but I think this thread will work to stitch you up and this alcohol will sterilize the wounds. There's at least gauze and tape to bandage you, I guess it's the best we have to work with." Keith said, returning.

"You're right. I never should have gone alone. Amateur move. I shoulda handled those pricks. Goddamn dirty Cali rat bastards. Those cocksuckers - beat me rotten, left me for a stiff. I had to crawl to my car, crawl my ass up here. The vamp blood's the only thing holdin' me together. But shit they got the money, they got the explosives..."

"Vampire blood? What do you mean? You seem human to me."

"Right, you're straight off the bus. Once a month I get fed vampire blood. Heals me faster, makes me stronger than a normal human. I don't age. By looking at me, you wouldn't realise it, but i'm almost sixty." Mercurio explained.

"Now that's something I would have liked to know. Would more blood help you heal?" Keith asked not pausing his stitching.

"What? Yeah but ... you don't know what you're saying, kid. Supply is part of how the bosses keep their guys loyal, you know. Anyone find out I drank from you we'd both be in the deep end." Mercurio said.

"We have no explosives, no money, and no other way to complete what ever this mission is I've been drafted into. I think we are already in the deep end. Now that we are, the last thing I need is you dying on me while we're trying to get out of the pool." Keith said dryly.

"There is something to that. Alright we'll try it if things get worse, but if anyone finds out both our asses will be fried! For now, let's see what we can do without it."

"Alright then. If you can think clearly, let's figure out what to do now. How do I get the explosives back?" Keith asked, finishing his stitching.

"Those small-time sons of bitches live out in a dump on the beach. Four or five of 'em. The one that's got the explosives is Dennis. Got my money too, that prick! You gotta...gotta get it back from 'em. Maybe reason with 'em. Maybe break in, I dunno. God, I wanna kill 'em. Do whatever you people do. I blew it, I know!" Mercurio exclaimed as Keith was taping gauze to his wounds.

"I think I've done as much as I can here. All you have for pain here is aspirin and that's not good when you're bleeding. I don't have a prescription pad, so I can't write you a script for something stronger." Keith pondered.

"Maybe...maybe the hospital will give you something. There's one not far away. I know a guy there, a ghoul like me, that's uh a guy who drinks vamp blood. Name is Vandal. He works in the blood bank. Great scam. He sells blood to you people. Not really his operation, though. It's his boss, the local baron." Mercurio rambled.

"Right. I'll go down there and see what I can get my hands on." Keith said, turning to leave.

"Uh, one more thing: about the deal going bad, the bosses hear of this and I'm a grease spot. I mean it - you tell anyone about this, I'm dead. I'm beggin' ya. I got a way o' gettin' people what they need. You don't say anything, I can help you out." Mercurio pleaded.

"I'm no big fan of the Prince and I'm living his idea of mercy. Don't worry. I'm not going to rat you out. We'll fix this together. I'd rather have a friend who owes me one than gloat like a kid over a corpse. Besides, do you think I want the time I spent saving you to be wasted?" Keith turned back to ask.

Mercurio gave him a thumbs up and Keith continued out the door.

* * *

><p>The Sparks Laboratory for Unconventional Sciences and Self Directed Research<p>

(SLUSSD)

* * *

><p>Doctor Spectre's H2 pulled into the parking lot and stopped. The Doc stepped out putting his hat on and examined the building with a critical eye.<p>

"Why the hell are were here?" Alex moaned, looking at the laboratory. As he got out he smoothed his _Beakman's World_ t-shirt.

"I'm here because Maria's been here all day. Now it's night and I'm worried. You're here because Cindy asked you to come with me and your big horny ass hopes to get some later." Spectre said gruffly.

"Oh, yeah. Does she, um, does she put out? I hate to think I'm doing this for someone who's just a tease." Alex asked with a joking grin.

"Wouldn't know, kid. I don't pry into people's personal lives. Unless I think I need to know to protect someone else. By the way, have you got enough control to go all the way and not change forms in the heat of the moment? I'm pretty sure as big as you get that could be dangerous." The Doc said in a deadpan tone while walking up to the door.

"Are you serious? I can control myself thank you very much! I was just joking about Cindy. I mean I'm in no hurry. If she wants to, great, if not whatever. There are more girls out there. I'm not looking for anything serious right now. Just someone wanting to have some fun. I don't make a secret of it either." Alex shot back.

"It's not really so much for Cindy's sake I asked about your transformation. You're so tall I had giant werewolf wang in my face all night when we were fighting the Sabbat. We might need to make you underpants. Or a thong." The Doc joked as he opened the door and stepped into the complex. Alex rolled his eyes.

"No receptionist. Just a phone. Here is the listing. It says dial one for Professor Sparks. Hey, if Sparks is a professor, why isn't this a university lab?" Alex wondered.

"Already checked on that. Sparks owns this place outright and is funded through a private think tank that dabbles in research that no university is willing to back. Likely a front for the Sons of Ether. The professor still is loosely attached to Caltech, though. I'm guessing donation money changes hands so Sparks can keep the professor title." Spectre said as he picked up the phone and dialed.

Alex waited briefly to see if the Doc could get an answer on the internal switchboard. He soon, however, grew bored. He mouthed the word 'restroom' and walked off. Rather than looking for a toilet, however, Alex went looking for the room the Doc was calling. He figured the direct approach would be more productive.

He walked through the corridors. The building looked pretty simple and through extrapolation he thought he had a pretty good idea of how the place was laid out. As he was about to turn another corner, something caught his eye. It was in the very back of the complex. He saw a door with a gold star on it. Under the star that was a note: _Sparks Space. Enter at your own risk._ From the far side of the door Alex heard manic laughter. Figuring that was as good as an invitation, he burst through the door and into the room as if he owned the place.

Inside was a laboratory right out of a science fiction movie. Wires ran haphazardly all about the ceiling and various glass tubes full of chemicals whirled and corkscrewed about the place. There was even a giant slab with a sheet covering a mysterious mass under one of the skylights. Standing on a raised platform in the center of the room was the oddest person Alex had even seen.

It was a woman. She wore pink high top Converse sneakers and black leggings which ran up under a electric blue micro skirt. She was wearing either a spaghetti strap tank top tucked into her shirt or a one piece leotard. Over that she wore a semi transparent over shirt with an oversized neck hole that left one shoulder bare. All of this was again under an unbuttoned white lab coat whose rolled up sleeves revealed a lot of arm bangles, mostly of garish plastic. Her bleached blond hair had several streaks of color that competed for attention with the multiple scrunchies that held it up in a half ponytail. She was the source of the manic laughter.

"What the hell is going on in here!?" Alex exclaimed in shock.

"Science!" The odd figure exclaimed with a grin.

The Doc came charging in, skidding to a halt with a look of astonishment that mirrored Alex's own.

"Professor Sparks I presume?" Spectre asked, regaining his composure.

"Yup that's me, but call me Nikki! **NIKKI SPARKS**!" She exclaimed as she exited the platform by swirling down a fireman's pole.

"Your name is Nikki Sparks? Are you a stripper?" Alex asked with nervous humor.

"No, silly! I'm a scientist. I haven't done that since before I started my master's. It was kind of fun though. Good exercise, too!" Sparks proclaimed.

"Yes, well, professor Sparks we are here..." Spectre began.

"You're Remington Spectre, PHD and this is Sergeant Alex Slibern, formerly of the U.S. Army Rangers. You're both here because we lost track of time and you think I've done something nefarious with Maria Grove, formerly of the projector company Orpheus." Sparks rambled.

"Um... yes." The Doc said uncertainly. He didn't like someone being ahead of him in knowing what was going on.

"Right, well, no problem! She's here and she's fine. She currently helping me in some research" Sparks spun a metal box around revealing a glass window. Behind it was the lightly blue flesh of Maria Grove.

"Holy shit! She's dead!" Alex exclaimed.

"Hold it. Alex. Technically you're right, but there is more to it. She's in Cryo- suspension. It's something Orpheus used to do to help people send their soul out of their body." Spectre explained.

"Very astute, doctor. Indeed, Miss Grove is in suspended animation while her soul flitters about. In fact, you can see her if you want. She's right over here." Nikki offered both men a pair of goggles that resembled the kind welders wore.

Spectre put his goggles on and Alex followed half a heartbeat later, uncertainty registering on his face. Both could then see Maria waving at them from just to the side of the Professor. In her ghostly form, Maria looked very different. She possessed an ethereal beauty that was for lack of a better word, haunting.

"The goggles are nothing, really, just a recreation of the items Terrell and Squib used to sell. I've constructed earbuds that allow audio communication! Now that's something those hacks never managed." Sparks said with pride.

"I always wanted a pair of these. I had them back ordered from T and S before they were shut down for being connected with the Pigment market." Spectre lamented.

"I can hook you up. Technically they're contraband. Terrell and Squib still have the patent and all that stuff is in deep litigation. I think I can trust you not to rat me out however." Sparks said beaming with pride.

"It's great to see Maria is okay, but um...what the heck are you doing and laughing like a maniac about?" Alex asked.

"Oh, well, Maria started as a Sleeper but she's learned to project without the cold sleep equipment, she came to me because my lab is trying to figure out how to duplicate Shade; the refined, less addictive version of the illegal street drug, Pigment." Nikki explained.

"The Black Heroin? I hear that stuff fucks you up. Makes you hallucinate and shit. Or, does it really let you see ghosts?" Alex asked.

"Yup, sure does, big boy! It's weaker than Shade, though, which will actually let you spirit walk out of your body. Still, it's nothing to mess around with as use of either will also pretty much ensure your spirit remains behind after death to haunt the world." Nikki said.

"It does what!? Why would anyone want to do that?!" Alex asked.

"Most people that took it didn't know. Now their shades haunt the world. Terrell and Squib apparently knew. They were secretly the suppliers behind the epidemic. The big problem is that no lab ever figured out the secret of either Shade or Pigment, which many were eager to do as neither Orpheus nor Terrell and Squib patented the technology." Nikki explained.

"To get a patent you have to reveal your manufacturing process. Something neither company was willing to do. They also were not properly licensed by the FDA for sale for the same reasons." Spectre explained.

"Yes but all those that looked for the formula discounted the truly supernatural, something I won't do. The formula obviously has a spiritual component and I'm getting close to figuring it all out using my own..." Nikki stopped and turned to the Doc and Alex striking a dramatic pose.

"**MAGIC SCIENCE!**" She exclaimed.

Alex looked at the Doc uncertainly. Spectre responded with a shrug.

"Professor Sparks. Nikki. Why don't you wake Maria up? She's likely helped enough for one day. Let's get her some food and real sleep. I'm sure she'll be willing to come back to help you later." Spectre said.

"Huh? Oh yeah! No prob! In fact, I'll buy you guys dinner for putting you through the trouble and worry of coming out here. I just get carried away with work at times. You guys like Chinese? I'm craving some General Tso's myself." Nikki rambled.

The process to awaken Maria took some time. The Doc and Alex pondered whether Sparks was dangerously insane, and whether they were in the mood for Chinese.


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter has been late my editor had a back up of essays and papers to do. I can't promise the next chapter will be out quickly sadly due to working retail and the holiday season is upon us. The next chapter is half written however so keep your fingers crossed. Thank you everyone who comments, private message, or visits the Blog with questions.

* * *

><p>Santa Monica Medical<p>

* * *

><p>Keith walked down the halls of Santa Monica Medical. He was obviously disgruntled. This was one of the most screwed up places he'd ever seen with a license to practice medicine. While it was true the hospital was over loaded with a recent crash, it was also true that its medical team was so dysfunctional as to be almost worthless. Keith navigated the building using his knowledge of hospital procedure and convinced most of the staff that he encountered that he had been sent to inspect their operation.<p>

Keith managed to gain access to their network, scanning through the files he learned their dark secrets. Doctors having affairs with interns, doctors with drug habits, doctors taking sexual advantage of the patients. The place was an absolute mess.

Among the worst that he found was in a room near the records storage. A young woman lay there, seemingly forgotten. H. Poe the chart on the edge of the bed read. She had ruptured organs, internal bleeding, and was left to die because she was less likely to survive. They hadn't even given her anything for pain. As he had looked at her, Mercurio's words came bubbling up into the forefront of his mind: vampire blood had healing powers. He had bitten his wrist and given her some in hopes of stabilizing her before venturing off to find the proper tools to be able to help her further.

He had finally procured what he needed and returned to her room. She was still in pain, drifting in and out of consciousness when he had left. She had been murmuring, asking someone to call her grandmother. Keith opened the door with trepidation, hopefully she would still be alive.

What he found surprised him. The young woman was quietly sleeping. He checked her vitals with care. Surprisingly, he found them to be good. He was about to leave when the she awoke with a moan and reached out for him.

"You... Wa- Who... wh-who are you? Ohh, what did you do? What did you do to me?" She murmured. She seemed to be in less pain compared to before. Her mind, however, was still confused.

Keith decided it would be best if she remembered as little as possible. He set up an IV drip to put her under so she would no longer be in pain. He started the IV then began to clean up the blood she'd coughed up while he was gone.

"Nothing. I'm just a Doctor. I gave you some medicine for the pain. Rest now. You'll feel much better when you wake up." Keith ordered in his best comforting doctor tone.

"No - no you did something. I can feel it. It's... fixing me. You- I-I kissed your wrist. What did you do?" She asked in a hazy, dreamy voice.

"Look, forget about this... just relax and sleep. You'll be fine." Keith told her smoothing her hair back.

"You - I feel like I know you... like you've always been here. I just need some...rest...now." She said sleepily as the IV started to do it's work.

Keith headed out. He hadn't had to use the other pain medicines on her. He now had an overabundance. He'd scavenged enough supplies from the hospital to put together a pretty good kit. It was time to check back on Mercurio.

Keith came out the front door and almost immediately ran into a very odd man. He was wearing a black jacket with a shirt that sported a cartoon smiley face made over to look like Dracula. He smile wide. "Need something pal?"

"Only for you to move out of my way. I have to go see someone." Keith replied gruffly.

"Aw man! Wait. Say that again." The man called out excitedly.

"Get out of my way. I have to go." Keith said, becoming more confused and agitated by this man.

"Aw, man! You! You're a vampire aren't' you?!" The man exclaimed.

"What? Vampire? Look, son I'm not sure what you're on but there's a clinic that can help you. You'll find a brochure on them inside the hospital here." Keith said and attempted to push past.

"Oh, c'mon. Aw man, you are too! Don't bullshit me man! Just come clean, you know, I man...oh man...I ain't gonna tell no one! It's okay, man. I just wanna talk!" The guy exclaimed with his same overly cheery demeanor.

"Look, if you want to talk, talk. I'm listening, but keep your voice down." Keith ordered pulling the young man into the shadows of the alley.

Hell yeah! Oh! Sorry man, I knew it! I just - Oh geez, I knew you were. I just could tell. I - oh man, this is great! And th-then I saw your teeth an-and I was, like: Damn! It was like I could just sense you. The name's Knox Harrington. Pleasure to meet you. Aw man!" He exclaimed then remembering, he lowered his voice once again.

"You're not a vampire I felt your wrist when I pulled you over here. You're warm and you have a pulse." Keith said with doubt.

"I'm a ghoul. I didn't know about any of this stuff until a couple months ago. When this guy just appeared and. well. all of a sudden - bam! Whoa man! Vampires are real and right there in front of my eyes! Blew my goddamn mind!" Knox explained.

"Ghoul, huh? I only know a little about that." Keith said worriedly. He was thinking about Miss Poe. Had he done something that would harm her? Would she end up crazy like this guy?

"Well, the way it was explained to me, whenever a vampire lets a human drink some of their vampire blood, the human gains a little vampire power. They can heal up quick and that kinda stuff. Geez, oh man! Then they're a ghoul, and watch out!" Knox excitedly explained.

"Well, you certainly seem to enjoy it" Keith said with uncertainty.

"It's awesome! Man after that first taste of vampire blood... it's like the best drug. Aw man, I'm tellin' ya, it's like... well it didn't mess me up, just made me feel like I was better at everything. I felt like a god, just suckin' on that nasty dude's wrist." Knox explained.

Keith thought back to his first experience feeding. He should have thought about that before dosing the Poe girl. If drinking vampire blood was as intense a sensation as feeding it could be addictive. However, if he had not given her blood she would have died. Any medical staff that saw signs of addictions were likely to think it was the morphine he gave her. Keith figured a mundane treatment program was likely to help her with the symptoms of addiction if they appeared. He wanted to know more, however. Maybe Knox's patron would know more.

"Who was this "nasty dude"? Your patron" Keith asked.

"Patron, you mean my master? Aw man! I really wish I could tell ya, but I don't think I'm supposed to. But it's really cool to be talkin' to you, just, well, because I don't get a lot of chances to talk to vampires- oh man! - well, other than my master, so I thought I'd just say, ya know, what's up, ya know?" Knox rattled off.

"Huh, so what are you doing around here?" Keith ask growing suspicious of the timing of this was someone spying on him and Mercurio?

"Look, I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm on a "secret mission" for my master. Well, hey- ha! - it's been great talkin' to you, man, but I better be going - aw man! - ya know, important stuff to do." Knox said in a tone that implied he might have already said too much.

"Right see you around then." Keith nodded and quickly walked off heading for Mercurio's apartment. Something about that little encounter rubbed him the wrong way.

Keith made his way back into the apartment. "Did you die on me?" He called out.

Mercurio moaned in response.

"Hold still. I've got an injection for you then some pills for when that wears off. You should get some sleep." Keith advised.

"What about the explosives and the plan?" Mercurio asked.

I haven't dealt with them yet but, I will. As for the mission, I'll be back tomorrow night after your rested." Keith explained.

Keith plucked the syringe out of his kit and with well practiced ease gave Mercurio the injection.

"I encountered another ghoul. You know of a Knox Harrington?" Keith asked.

"Yeah. In fact I've been looking for him. Later we need to set up a meeting with his master but... it's complicated. He's likely trying to stay low. His master is on the outs with the local Baron. It's what the Anarchs call the local strong men they have instead of Princes." Mercurio explained.

"Hum... Well, there you go! See! That didn't hurt a bit." Was all Keith said as he removed the needle form Mercurio. He wondered to himself what an Anarch was. Perhaps yet another faction of vampires?

"Ahh... ohh... oh, holy Christ! I needed that. You are good one, Doc." Mercurio exclaimed.

"Just sleep and rest. I'll see you tomorrow." Keith said leaving.

* * *

><p>Santa Monica Beach<p>

* * *

><p>Zeke stood on the beach leaning a bit on a silver handled ebony wood cane. He observed the assorted and very divergent lot that was the Santa Monica Thin-Bloods. Not having anything else to do, the four of them were lounging about staring at a fire they had made. Their weakness was also a strength in some cases. For them, the Red Fear was a distant thing. The beast was a mournful whine, not the raging howl it was in others of more lineage.<p>

The Australian surfer named E. was helping out by keeping watch on the newest member of their group, Copper. Already Copper's cluelessness had almost gotten them in trouble. Rosa was sitting with Julius, who looked up at Zeke.

"I-I-I'm feeling some better Mr. Mason. I think I can test another." Julius offered.

"Nonsense, Julius. You rest and get better. We're not in any rush. I'd rather have honest answers and truthful feedback. Now I don't have any blood for you tonight, but I did bring your group some cash." Zeke replied, setting his cane aside and squatting down to get a better look at Julius.

"I j-just don't k-know how we'd m-make it without you Mr. M-mason! You're the only who helps us." Julias stammered.

"Well, I like to think we help each other, but thank you Julius."

"He is coming!" Rosa said, jumping up and running to the access stairs that lead down from the pier.

Zeke turned to E.. "Are you expecting someone?" He asked conversationally.

"You know Rosa, mate. Likely saw something." E. replied. Zeke stood up and picked up his cane. He ambled over to see what was going on.

Rosa was standing near the opening waiting when Keith McDowell, the very same fledgeling he had seen the night before, came down to the beach. Rosa turned and pointed.

"Up there. Through that chain link gate and up those stairs." She offered mysteriously.

"Excuse me?" Keith asked surprised.

"Those men you are looking for." She said.

"How did you know I was looking for someone?" Keith asked suspiciously.

"Never mind. You wouldn't understand." Rosa replied sadly.

"Wait, just try me. I've seen some things to make me stop and think." Keith offered.

Zeke stepped up and offered his hand. "Our little Rosa here is visionary. You might say a prophetess Dr. McDowell. Her oracular visions are often hard to interpret, but are always true in some form."

"You must be Ezekial Mason." Keith replied briskly shaking the offered hand.

"Indeed. Master Apprentice of the House Tremere, Los Angeles Chantry. Please call me Zeke. All my friends do and I hope to remain on friendly terms with you Dr. McDowell." Zeke offered.

"Well, I've always had a preference for making friends over enemies" Keith stated, eyeing the small Thin-Blooded encampment.

"I'm sure the Thin-Blooded won't mind us joining them come Doctor let us enjoy their camp it's not much but they have music and a warm fire." Zeke offered walking back.

"Call me Keith. What is a Thin-Blooded? Odd. The site of the fire makes me feel... a bit... unsettled" Keith admitted as he followed.

"Well that would be the Red Fear as it is called colloquiality. It's a psychological aversion to something, namely fire, which is, after all, one of our main weaknesses. Damage dealt by fire is very difficult to heal. The Thin-Blooded are among the weakest of vampires, however, their weakness in vampiric power comes with a similar weakened reaction to the ingrained instincts of vampiric preservation that, while useful, can be damn annoying at times." Zeke explained.

"So, because they are weaker their inner warning devices are also weaker. The urges to flee fire and sunlight aren't as strong and they are therefore more likely to die from them?" Keith asked to be sure he was following.

"Yes, albeit some also have reduced weaknesses to go along with their reduced strength. Some can even tolerate sunlight, albeit none here nor any I have met. A Dr. Netchurch thoroughly documented the cases he encountered. He is the most accomplished researcher into the vampiric state. I can lend you copies of his papers some time. I'm sure as a fellow doctor you'd find them fascinating." Zeke offered.

"No doubt I would." Keith agreed.

"You see, the key to understanding the Thin-Blooded is the concept of vampiric generation. The vampiric curse is not infinite in its ability to spread. When a vampire creates another vampire they are not just weak due to inexperience, which naturally can be cured with time and study, they also have a lower maximum potential for power than the sire who created them." Zeke explained.

"So that's why I couldn't fight off the goons that had me pinned?" Keith asked.

"No. They are likely far weaker in potential than you. They have just had more time to master their abilities and grow in knowledge of the blood powers. In fact, your potential exceeds even my own. Odessa was a very low generation vampire. She was of the seventh you are of the eighth. I myself am only of the tenth. Most vampires you encounter will be of the twelfth or thirteenth." Zeke continued.

"So what generation is the Prince?" Keith inquired.

"He and his sheriff, I imagine, are of the seventh. Sadly the drops in potency are not even. Legend says the drop from second to third was very steep, but no vampires of that generation are left to say or are unwilling to speak to anyone of our level of power. Below that level of power the drop off is gradual until you hit the eighth generation. After that it is not as steep, however, still noticeable. Following that formula; an eighth generation vampire is far weaker than a seventh. While a ninth generation vampire is only a little weaker than an eighth generation. After thirteenth generation the drop becomes massive. The fourteenth generation is extremely weak. Most of them can't even sire other vampires. Those that can produce the fifteenth generation, none of which has proven able to create a vampire or a ghoul. In fact if you can't sire among the fourteenth you also can't produce a ghoul. I take it you've seen mister Mercurio and know what a ghoul is?" Zeke inquired.

"Yes. I'm here on business for him. Look, as fascinating as this is, I don't have time for it now. Can you step over here by the pier so we can talk in private? I have some matters that needs to be dealt with." Keith asked.

Zeke followed him over to the pier and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I have two matters. I'm not sure I can trust you but, I do require assistance with them. The first is pressing. The other is more a private worry. To get the second out of the way at some point in the future I want to have a long discussion about ghouls." Keith revealed.

"Well, I'd be happy to teach you about ghouls but before you start on the pressing matter hear me out on something. I want to clear the air by telling you some facts. I want you to hear this from me before someone hints at it, plays dirty politics and tries to make it something it's not. I'm indirectly responsible for you and Odessa meeting." Zeke said with a frown.

"What?" Keith asked perplexed.

"The thesis you built for your biochemistry PHD was on the potential to replicate mass quantities plasma and perhaps even blood itself to be used in medical facilities. I think you can see where that would prove of interest to a vampire who has a scientific mind." Zeke stated.

"Are you a doctor?" Keith asked.

"No. I'm a sorcerer and alchemist but don't jump to conclusions. Magic is very real. Is there any other explanation for how you, a corpse, is up walking and talking without any of the process of life to sustain it on other than magic?" Zeke asked.

"Actually, that was pretty much my thoughts on it as well, but back to Odessa and me meeting." Keith said brusquely.

"Yes, well, while not a doctor I do work with a one. Halinka Przemyslawa Podolski who if you make me say her name again I'll likely end up with my tongue in a knot. She's very old, very powerful and Romanian. She's even older than Odessa. She's of the same generation as well. They're both originally from Europe, obviously. They had enough in common to, while not be friends, to be on friendly terms." Zeke ventured.

"How old is... was Odessa? I don't know anything about Odessa's real past." Keith admitted, coming to the realization he actually knew very little about the woman he'd been set on marrying.

"I hear she was turned during the early part of the French Revolution. She was a member of the Third Estate. As a seventh generation, she was of the same potency and a little bit older than our dear Prince LaCroix, not to mention from the same nation too. They hated each other. She was masterful at playing politics. The Brujah are not known for this. The Ventrue, his clan, are supposed to be good at politics. Being continually showed up by a member of the 'rabble' did not sit well with him, as you can well imagine. The Anarchs felt a little betrayed that she officially joined the Camarilla, but when they saw she was fighting for them from the inside, that toned down their ire." Zeke admitted.

"Sometime, you'll have to tell me more of the Anarchs. I'm pretty ignorant of the politics around here. That might well get me killed." Keith admitted.

"A deal. Anyway, back to my story. I shared your work with Linka who asked her friend Odessa to go look at this young doctor. She took a look, offered an opinion and then, rather than being done, decided she liked this doctor and wanted to know more about him. Far more than our needs required. We just wanted to know if we could trust you and if we should invest some money, set you up with a lab and let you work on that project of yours. That might have proven very beneficial to our kind. In the process she found someone she loved. Only that could make her risk everything to save you." Zeke revealed.

"I see." Keith processed these revelations, deciding it really didn't change anything. He also decided this openness meant he could trust Zeke with his goals.

"Look. Mercurio made a mistake. Those men up there have some explosives he was supposed to obtain. I don't want to go into the details, but the Prince is likely to be angry at him if he finds out and I would rather have a guy who owes me a favor then another headless corpse on a stage. Can I trust you to help me get the explosives back and not betray Mercurio?" Keith asked fiercely.

"Yes, yes you can. I would rather have a intelligent doctor as my ally than an angry one who feels betrayed. I'm no sneak or thief, however. There's not much I can help you with other than killing them all. If we are going to do that, lets use the Thin-Blooded." Zeke offered.

"Use the Thin-Blooded?" Keith asked perplexed. He didn't particularly like the sound of that.

"Oh, yes! You see they are hated and treated like lepers even though the condition they have is not contagious. They are not allowed to hunt in any territory claimed by the Barons or Prince. They might be weak for vampires but they can help us handle some mortal junkies and in the process refill their dwindling reserves of blood." Zeke replied.

"Wait. If they can't hunt how do they survive?" Keith asked.

"With great difficulty. Normally they have to leave town and hope they can find some place where no one claims dominion, or hunt and hope not to get caught. I've been helping them out with medical blood packs bought from the underground blood market. I also pay them for helping with my alchemical research. Sort of like universities do with volunteer college kids who are on the bottom of the financial aid barrel." Zeke explained.

"Hum. Did some of that in med-school myself. Well four of them and the two of us. That makes six against the four or five junkies up there. That does give us a numeric advantage." Keith mulled.

"And they get paid by being able to feed. You can't leave these junkies alive once you beat them down for the explosives. Plus, I trust they didn't just take Mr. Mercurio's explosives without a fight did they?" Zeke asked.

"No. They beat him up and left him for dead. They are as good as murderers. Sure. The Thin-Blood can feed on them. Heck I might top off my reserves while we are up there." Keith decided.

"Well then, I'll gather our impromptu troops." Zeke said with a smile as he started back to the Thin-Blooded camp.

Keith decided Zeke seemed alright, but he'd watch him to be sure. Remembering the card in his pocket he decided to take a chance trusting someone else. Keith made for the payphone at the pier. He was glad there still was one of the quickly vanishing devices available.

* * *

><p>Insights Consultations Offices<p>

* * *

><p>Frederick Kazviropoulos was a fairly young man. He appeared to be in his mid twenties. His apparent age and actual one were not that far off. He had been a ghoul for less than a decade. He cautiously sought out his patron, Halinka Przemyslawa Podolski, or 'Linka' as she was called in casual conversation by most Americans. He, at times, joked that she had only taken him on because of his ability to pronounce her name. Having learned to speak Greek from his grandparents in his youth he was adept at pronouncing names and words most Americans were ill suited to managing.<p>

The reason for his care was not that Linka was particularly volatile. Quite the contrary. In his experience she was always in icy, almost Zen like control. No, it was that he hated to disturb her while she was working. Watching her work on the human body was not something he liked seeing.

Linka was one of the most practical beings he knew. She made an absolute killing in the field of cosmetic surgery. In Hollywood her name was whispered as the surgeon who worked out of a small, discrete lab hidden behind a financial consultant's office away from the prying eyes of the press. It was said she could do what no other could, remain out of the spotlight, never answer questions from reporters and, most importantly, she could fix virtually any plastic surgery disaster. No one ever talked about her prices, however. A non disclosure of that sum was in the contract to obtain her services. A contract with a stiff penalty.

Linka charged what she felt each should pay. Some paid millions upfront some forfeited percentile portions of their income for years. A few even walked out with the promise to speak well of her when their careers took off. A very, very few even left paying nothing.

It was all very easy for her. Not only had she studied medicine for a more than a mortal life span, Linka possessed the rare gift of flesh warping, known as Vicissitude. For her the flesh and bone of her patrons was like wet clay. She artistically shaped them carefully using her surgical tools and leaving only the barest of scars that would quickly vanish. Her clients all thought she worked miracles.

Frederick found she was out of her surgery room, in a small antechamber where she was cleaning blood off her hands and face. She seldom bothered resisting the urge for a snack while she worked. It was a clever way to feed, given no one thought the least bit of having lost a bit of blood and feeling weak after a surgery.

"Miss Podolski? I hate to intrude but I need to ask you about some matters of business." Frederick said.

"It is no trouble, Frederick. What is troubling you." Linka inquired.

"Well, I've been talking to our leg man in New York, Guy Wilkins. He wasn't complaining per se but he had been instantly noting how much of our mutual investment assets we still have liquid. I told him the board and I had those earmarked for a special project of interest to my investor base. He noted that money standing idle isn't growing and asked if some could be made available to short term investments. If our project is going to take a while to get off the ground he believes he can earn some returns then replace the funds." Frederick explained.

"Dr. McDowell still is among the walking. He may be in a precarious situation but, until we know more, we must wait. Patience, Frederick. Time is not to be wasted, this is true, but, spoiling a well thought out plan can be just as much a waste as sitting idle." Linka said with the placid smile of an amused teacher.

"Well as useful as Guy is, it would be a shame to antagonize him. What about a compromise. How about this, why don't we let Guy invest say a quarter of the money in short term investments. If he has it out before Dr. McDowell is able to start work, great! We'll make money. If not, we can make up some of the funds by borrowing on short terms and should at least break even. What Guy pulls in will counter the loans interest." Frederick offered.

"That sounds workable. Tell him you managed to cajole the board into going along with it but achieving consensus wasn't easy. After all we don't want him to envy you your job." Linka quipped.

"Excellent.! Well if you don't need anything else..." Frederick said as he started to head out.

"Just a moment. We have been working hard. Neither of us must forget our meditations and exercises. The physical world must be balanced with the spiritual. I feel our balance is off. When you are through talking to Guy, return. We will pray and attend to our devotions and exercises together. You might not get the full benefit of them now, but in time you will thank me. The wisdom of the Dracon was made for vampires, but as a ghoul you will gain some benefit. If you are ever turned you will have a considerable leg up on the unenlightened." Linka said.

"Very true. I'll return as soon as I can." Frederick said heading out.

Linka nodded and began preparing her Akoimetai ritual implements and gathering her sacred text.

* * *

><p>Santa Monica Pier<p>

* * *

><p>Denis and his gang of junkies had proven no serious challenge to so large a band of vampires, even one mostly consisting of Thin-Bloods. Keith couldn't find it in him to feel sorry for the group of attempted murderers.<p>

"We will need to torch this place. It's a good thing drug labs are known for blowing up, but we don't want to leave too much of a trail. I will use my magic to set it alight." Zeke offered.

"I don't think we'll even need that Zeke we can leave a lit lighter here and put a hole in this hose that should work like a timer when we're ready" Keith said demonstrating how flimsy Denis' equipment was.

"D-d-doctor Keith... I thi- I think we found M-Mister Mercurio's money." Julius called.

Keith and Zeke came out of the lab room and found Julius holding a cigar box.

"I-it was in the vent. B-behind the laundry room." Julius explained.

"Brings new meaning to money laundering, eh? We found it because we wanted to wash the filth off our clothes." E. joked.

"Great work, Julius." Keith said

Julius beamed at the simple praise. Keith wondered how badly beaten down by life the Thin-Blooded were that simple humane treatment and common courtesy so impressed them.

"E. take these explosives and you guys all go down to the tunnel just off the beach. Zeke and I will join you there. You're all going back to my place. You can crash there tonight and get a shower to clean yourselves off. Not just your clothing." Keith offered.

"Wow, alright! Don't have to say that twice, mate! We'll meet you there." E. said gathering the others up from their tasks to hurry out.

Keith rigged his makeshift timer and set the shack up for destruction. Walking away he asked Zeke more about the Thin-Blooded.

"You know, I didn't have the heart to tell them I had blood for them tonight, but left it for you. I thought you could use it more after last night." Zeke explained.

"What do you mean?" Keith asked confused.

"The blood in your refrigerator. You didn't think Mercurio left it, did you?"

"Actually, I never looked in the fridge. I just thought as I didn't eat what could be in there I would want?" Keith admitted sheepishly.

"Oh, well it will keep and the Thin-Bloods are satiated. They don't have anywhere to store it anyhow." Zeke said with a shrug.

"What sort of experiments are you doing with them?" Keith asked.

"It's complex. I've been keeping it secret from most due to the implications, which you undoubtedly will understand. They don't pass out PHD's or MD's to men who lack the ability to see complex implications." Zeke stated before quietly lapsing into thought.

Keith waited, knowing the look of someone trying to organize how to present a difficult topic.

Remember what I was telling you about generation? Well there is one way to lower one's generation. A dark rite called Diablerie. Clan Tremere, in it's infancy, performed such a rite gaining the power to become a true clan. Getting into all of that is a bit political and requires a lot of historic background, but to sum up, our backs were to the wall and while normally Diablerie will get you hated and hunted down, we managed to avoid that fate." Zeke explained.

"This had to have happened a long time before you were a vampire, but you still say we. Is clan loyalty that strong?" Keith inquired wondering about his own clan.

"Depends on the clan, really. The Tremere are called 'the pyramid' for our unity, stability as well as our power structure. Your own clan, less so, but there always is kinship among those of like clan, at least of some kind." Zeke admitted.

"Back to this Diablerie..." Keith directed.

"Yes, well, it's a type of power theft that slays its victim. It's very dark stuff and very _illegal. _Older, stronger vampires feel it's close to blasphemy in how forbidden it is. To the Sabbat it's a holy rite. Doctor Netchurch found out it's also the only known cure for being Thin Blooded." Zeke explained.

"So the only known cure is to murder and steal the power from a stronger vampire. I can see why that would lead stronger vampires to worry. When you start seeing your rivals as a potential source of a power increase it would break down society rather quickly. It also explains a bit about the Sabbat, I think." Keith replied frowning

"Yes, well, that is the issue. There even is a clan, the Assamites, that focuses on being paid assassins they will slay rival vampires for the chance to steal their powers. They were hated but being stealthy and constantly rising in strength they survived the scorn. That was true both in antiquity and the modern nights. Between those two, however, they had to do something else." Zeke hinted.

Keith gave Zeke a go on expression.

"Yes, well, when the Camarilla was first founded our lord Tremere himself wished to assure the elders who formed it the clan would fully back the rule of law. We forswore ever turning to the dark art of Diablerie and he lead a circle of our most powerful blood mages to curse the Assamite clan to be unable to perform Diablerie on another vampire on pain of a sorcerous induced death. Now there are other groups of blood sorcerers. Several clans dabble in the art. As a house of mages before we became vampires we had a leg up on them in organization and base understanding of the art. They tried and failed the overcome our block so they began to look for other avenues to gain the same power without the aid of Diablerie. They produced a potion created from vampiric blood harvested from vampires more powerful than oneself. Artificial Diablerie." Zeke explained.

"So you seek to replicate this power and cure the Thin-Blooded. Ahh, yes. I see, the older, lower generation vampires wouldn't like the idea that anyone who can get one of these potions would remove the limits on their power. The vampires like the Prince don't want anyone being even with them and able to match them in power." Keith conjectured.

"Neither they nor others far stronger. Such issues have torn vampire society apart several times. The last time saw the formation of the Camarilla and Sabbat. That fear could prove a major impediment to my research if anyone understood the true implications of curing the Thin-Blooded in the way I am attempting. I don't go into it with most, with you, however, well, I hope to partner with you in your own blood research. We must be honest with each other, right? As well I think perhaps evening out the power gap between you and a stronger vampire might have some interest to you?" Zeke stated.

A woosh of flames and dull thump came punctuating the statement as the drug lab on the cliff blew up in the distance.

"Most interesting, but if you were telling the truth before it wouldn't eliminate the need to work hard to gain mastery and learn to harness the powers a vampire can wield." Keith mulled aloud.

"No, it's not a short cut. It just removes the top out. Many who have such a power curve working in their favor don't want to risk the chance of someone who works harder and has more ambition having the chance to catch up to them." Zeke explained.

"That's alot to think about, right now though, I want to think about getting home and cleaned up to rest for the day. Come on." Keith said as they both headed away to meet the Thin- Bloods.

* * *

><p>The Sparks Laboratory for Unconventional Sciences and Self Directed Research<p>

(SLUSSD)

* * *

><p>Maria had decided to stay the night at Professor Sparks' lab. She was still unsure about Alex staying across the hall from her at Spectre's, plus the upstairs living space was quite nice. This moment she was watching some results from the project she had helped Professor Sparks with.<p>

In a large terrarium, a plant would grow as a seedling, mature, bloom, seed, wilt then die. The entire process would then reverse. Every now and then everything would freeze and mechanical arms holding instruments would descend for closer scanning. Then they would retract and the process would continue.

"Restless?" Sparks called out as she ambled over toward Maria. She was in an oversized sleep t-shirt.

Maria wondered about Sparks' eclectic fashion choices. She had quietly asked Dr. Spectre about them. Spectre had theorised Sparks was far older than she appeared. If he was right she had likely slowed down her ageing in the nineteen eighties. Her tastes had apparently frozen with them. The theory had merits. She certainly acted much younger than she had to be given her titles. Spectre had also warned her most true Awakened Magi looked at everything from a stilted viewpoint that ranged from harmlessly eccentric to dangerously insane. Maria had judged Sparks to be the former. She actually seemed kind of fun.

"It's like watching a wave motion machine. it's actually kind of soothing." Maria admitted.

"It's repetitive. It's doing exactly what it's supposed to be doing." Sparks said with a uncharacteristically sad sigh.

"But isn't' that good?" Maria asked.

"The Technocrats like it when things go as planned. What they don't get is you never learn anything from that sort of staticness. I conjured that up by reversing the process of time around a small sack of Shade separating out the components I didn't want and revealing the plant it originally came from. Only having the one, I put it on a loop so I could gain greater insight into how it works. But, doing anything truly experimental with it would risk destroying my only sample. You helped me confirm there is some sort of ectoplasmic effect that causes the mutation from a simple opium spectrum plant into the plant that makes Shade. Which is what I expected. Now, I'll have to try to get more Pigment or Shade so I can try to get more flowers. That way if I lose one experimenting it won't destroy the research into how to effect that change." Sparks explained.

"So you're depressed that it will end up taking so long?" Maria asked still not sure.

"Not so much disappointed as bummed I didn't get a revelation. The Technocratic hacks might love getting confirmation that things work exactly how they think and want things to work, but a true genius relishes when things don't work exactly as planned! There is never a more satisfying feeling when rather than success or failure you get to think! Now that is unexpected! You see, when you encounter the unexpected it means rules are in play you know nothing of and true science isn't' about making things or discovering things work how you think they work. It's about discovering the things you know nothing about! It's all about figuring out the rules you've never seen in action now that..." Nikki sighed wistfully "...that is true discovery!"

"You must really enjoy it. The process of discovery that is." Maria said beginning to understand Sparks' mindset.

"It's the most incredible feeling ever! Only really one thing that can even compare." Sparks said wistfully.

"Oh? What's the second best thing then?" Maria asked curious.

"Orgasm." Nikki said matter of factly.

Maria stood, stunned for a second. Her mind processing this statement trying to sort out if she'd misheard. She finally responded "You mean sex?"

"Hum? No, not sex. You can have sex and never orgasm. That can be fun but it's way down the list from scientific discovery. The actual moment it feels like your universe has exploded and all the mysteries of time and space are revealed to you! Now that's close to the thrill of scientific discovery. That, my friend, is pure awesome. Oh, by the way, do you know if the really big guy, Alex, is dating or anything? He's a rather good looking hunk of flesh and I might need cheering up now that this is turning into a grind." Nikki said, waving at her project.

"I-I uhh I just met the man today. I don't know much about him. He flirts with the barista at Dr. Spectre's bookshop. She was talking about it earlier." Maria confessed, confused by the turn of conversation.

"Well, that sounds promising at any rate. Big slab of man like that. I could put him to some good use. He's a werewolf too! They're supposed to have a lot of regenerative ability and physical power. Yes - oh yes! I think I'll be pursuing that." Sparks said with a hungry looking smile.

Maria could only stare dumbfounded at this odd revelation.

"Oh well I'm off to bed! Sleep in as long as you like. I'll be going out. I have to find out who might still have some of the annoyingly small reserves of Shade or Pigment left. Looks like I'll be slumming it in the morning. Pass code to get in and out is on the notepad on the table and there is instant oatmeal in the cabinet there. It cooks up pretty well on the bunsen burner. Sleep tight!" Nikki called out as ambled off back to her bedroom.

Maria sat dumbfounded and began to reevaluate her views on the professor's sanity.

* * *

><p>Santa Monica Apartment<p>

* * *

><p>Keith neared the door to his apartment. The Thin-Blooded vampires stood behind him, with Zeke bring up the rear. As they approached the safe house they noticed the lights were on in the apartment. Ready for a trap, the group had crept up the stairs to the door.<p>

There was the sound of someone inside the safe house. It could be thieves or another vampire seeking to use it as an emergency bolt hole. Keith had been warned it was not his alone. He opened the door slowly to find a surprising sight. It was a hunter and werewolf. It was not something normally what a vampire would be grateful to see. In this case, they seemed to have arrived with a surprise. They had supplies from a hardware store and were nailing up cover over the windows.

"When I talked to you guys on the phone I wasn't expecting you to show up and remodel." Keith said impressed.

"I'd offer you a beer but I doubt you can drink it. Doc says everything tastes like bitter ashes to your kind. Then you throw up or something." Alex joked as he hammered nails into the side of the wall with his prodigious strength.

"I can eat! And drink too! You mind if I have a cold one, mate?" E. asked.

"I don't know you, but if Keith says it's okay, sure." Alex said to the Aussie. He was unsure if he was a vampire. Most of them he could smell the aura of death that cloaked them. He wasn't' sure if so many in such close quarters were masking a living man or if E. just didn't reek of death like the others.

"You can eat? You're a ghoul then, or are you one of those new weak vampires I've heard rumor about?" Doc asked while holding up the board Alex was nailing on. He then turned his head back to Alex, noticing his hammering. "If you crack another board because of your showing off trying to hammer in a nail in one shot, you're going back to Home Depot alone to get more wood." The Doc chastised.

"Sorry." Alex replied sheepishly, his face reddening.

"Well, I guess I'm a runt. Even my sire, I guess you'd call her, was a Thin-Blood. She went missing some time back. We had a falling out. She tried to feed on me and lost control. She wanted to show me what she was. She figured taking a bite out of me would take away any doubts she was telling the truth. Thin-Bloods can't hunt around here, she hadn't eaten in days. She lost control. She said she brought me back 'cause she couldn't stand the idea of having killed me. I was furious about what I'd become. I said some things drove her away. Huge mistake. Now I just wish I knew she was okay." E. lamented as he pulled a beer out of the ice.

"Damn. That story hits close to home. Is it that hard to keep control?" Keith winced.

"It is. During extreme hunger or fear, like when you're exposed to fire, the extreme stress brings out things like that." The Doc stated.

"None of which was true of Odessa. No, I suspect a different ailment in her case." Zeke stated.

"Oh?" The Doc inquired.

"Sorry, not sure what I should tell you, but I guess everyone's secret identities being outed at once would work? Seems to be the way it's done in the comics." Keith asked.

No one objecting Keith continued.

"This is E., Rosa, Copper, and Julius. They are the local Thin-Blooded vampires. They're unable to hunt or survive because they are social outcasts. The vampires seem to think they are the harbingers of the end of days. This is Ezekiel Mason a master apprentice of clan Tremere. They use some sort of blood magic. The man who just let go of the board is Dr. Remington Spectre. The man who looks alot like a short haired Thor while holding that hammer is Alex Silbern, he's a werewolf. Apparently the only one of them that will talk to vampires rather than kill us on sight." Keith explained.

Mason choked up the grip on his cane and stood closer to the door after that revelation. Alex waved merrily.

"Are you letting these guys stay here with you then?" The Doc asked.

"Well the Thin-Blooded, I found out, Zeke pays them to help him test alchemical concoctions. Normally he pays them in blood but he put the blood he was going to pay them in here thinking I would need it. Which, I might have had Jack not gave me some quick lessons in survival. Now Zeke is giving me some more. He's filling me in on the politics." Keith explained

"Yes, you see, other than the Tremere Chantry the Camarilla presence here is very new. Not too terribly long after the battle of New York a group of undead from the Orient called the Kuei-jin attacked California. At that time, California and part of Nevada were under Ancarch rule. Rather than rule entire cities with Princes it was divided into smaller areas ruled by Barons. These local Barons each had their own security force and often clashed with one another. The elders tried to mediate where they could and when the Kuei-jin attacked the same elders tried to unite the security forces to strike back and form cohesive defenses. None of it worked very well. The Anarchs were too undisciplined and had a history of bad blood between different sects. The Sabbat moved up from Mexico into Southern California seeing an opportunity to wrest land from a weakened foe. The Camarilla entered to both liberate the area from the Kuei-jin and seize control." Zeke reported neutrally, as if reciting from a history text.

"So they said they were here to help and instead jacked these Anarchs' land? Well that's horse shit." Alex replied with a frown.

"The Camarilla wanted control of the cities and a base to watch for the Sabbat. Most of the powerful kindred passed on taking up the mantle of Prince. They could see they entered the battle too late and had done too little. The local elders, what few survived, were willing to trade in their Anarch principles for safety. However, none under a century old saw the need. La Croix was the most powerful visiting elder who thought they could make it as a Prince. He now acts like he's the firmly established Prince of a major city and moves accordingly. Only when things get dicey and his face is rubbed in it does he seem to realize how precarious his situation is, the most of which was when Nines called him out over Keith's fate." Zeke explained.

"You said his creator's death was suspect?" Spectre asked.

"Let's see. Examine the facts which as he lived through them, Keith can attest to their veracity. He was embraced not long before dawn and only reawakened the next night. Before he could get out of a bed and into a car there was the sheriff and two goons. He had not even been a vampire twenty-four hours and he and Odessa were caught. Does that sound like the sort of response time someone who had a Sabbat attack slip in practically while he was holding court could manage? Add to this that Odessa was a major political enemy. A thorn he really wished to remove but could not because of how slickly she out maneuvered him at the political games of our kind. A Prince is supposed to be good at such games. I think we have a pattern established, don't we? Draw your own conclusions." Zeke offered.

"Conclusions are great but I prefer proof. If he set her up somehow I'd have to know how. I would think magic...is there anything else you want to tell us?" The Doc asked.

"If it was Clan Tremere I know nothing of it, but know that we are not the only blood sorcerers. We're just the best. Our own Regent while a huge fan of keeping the Camarilla in control of the city is not a huge fan of La Croix himself. More than that I cannot say." Zeke said with a shrug.

"Can't or won't" Alex asked pointedly.

"That's not the sort of question you really expect someone to answer is it? Even if I did you'd have to come to your own conclusions about if I'm being truthful after all." Zeke responded.

Alex narrowed his eyes. He didn't normally instantly dislike people he'd just met, but this Ezekiel Mason rubbed him completely the wrong way. He was too polished and too obviously full of himself. He hoped he wasn't leading Keith into something that could get him into trouble.

"I don't trust this guy. He's too slick. Never trust someone with that much polish." Alex said addressing the room in general.

"M-m-mister M-Mason is a g-good guy. He h-helps us out." Julius stuttered.

"Yeah. I heard. The gist of what I understood is that he pays you to be guinea pigs! Real humanitarian." Alex shot back.

"Settle down, Alex. You're just high strung from being in a closed space with this much death smell. Why don't you go take a walk?" The Doc suggested.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you think's best." Alex said as he dropped the hammer in his hand with a clang. He headed for the door. He smugly noted Zeke backed into the kitchen staying out of his arm's reach as he exited.

With Alex gone the Doc continued. "We can't accuse the Prince of anything without proof and without that I won't move against him. What I will do is watch him. If he turns out to be a slimeball I'll help you oust him, Keith. If not, no dice. However, you said on the phone they set you on what seems to be a suicide mission against the Sabbat. That I will help with. The Sabbat are monsters and I've told him I would help anyone end them. So I can help you and he can't say much about it. Look, it's getting late...er well early. We have basic light proofing here in this room. I better get Alex and head out. When you head to see Mercurio tomorrow you tell me. I plan to be there and hear the full mission brief. If we can we'll work together on stopping the Sabbat. Then you'll have more freedom to look for clues as to what happened to Odessa." The Doc offered.

"That is more than I could have hoped, Dr. Spectre." Keith admitted.

"My friends call me Doc. You're not there, but you're headed in the right direction. I like survivors. Keep struggling forward and you'll gain momentum." Specter said with a grim smile.

As he was leaving he pulled one of his cards out of his coat and handed it to Zeke. "I'm not just a Hunter. I also practice the lesser magics, what the Awakened called 'hedge magic.' I have books and supplies I sell. Tell your chantry Regent I used to get supplies for the New York Chantry of Five Boroughs. Call me and we'll see if we can do business." Spectre said briskly.

"A hunter and a hedge magician, remarkable. Indeed I will, thank you! I regret your friend took a disliking to me." Zeke said as he put away the card.

"He may be the size of a small truck, but he's still a kid. Subtley's not really his strong suit. Besides, you're slick but I've dealt with slicker. A long life can give you time to grease up the tongue. That and vampire politics makes you good at playing the game. That doesn't mean you're trying to play us for saps...and if you are. Well, all that smoothness doesn't stop bullets." Spectre said with an indifferent shrug as he walked out.

Everything was quiet for a moment or two as everyone in the room reflected on the implied threat.

"What remarkable people you meet! I think if I was alive I'd have peed myself a little." Zeke said cheerfully.

"So I do." Keith muttered lost in thought.

"Do you think he could help me find my Lily? I mean if he's good at killing vampires you'd think he could find one that's 'alive?' I mean if she is." E. asked.

"Whether he does or not E. I'll try to help. I can't promise much. I have this suicide mission the Prince is forcing on me but why don't you tell me all you can about her. When I have a chance I'll try to look into it." Keith said genuinely moved by E.'s plight.

"Well you all rest well. I have to get back to the chantry. I likely won't be back for a few days until I get another potion ready to test. Without an excuse neither the Prince or the Regent would look kindly upon me coming down here. You can drop my name to the Baroness, however, she and I are... business partners." Zeke explained, heading out.

Keith stayed up until the unseen sun began to lighten the sky. He learned much about what could have happened and how lost one could be among the undead from the Thin-Blooded.


End file.
